#anon - Hello Poetry

~commissioned accidentally by a melody, a passing glance, a purring perchance, an idle innocent comment, to be born as the first poem of this day, @7:00am Tue Sep 18 2025, writ in haste, before departing over many islands to another place called "home"~ ---~<>~--- *sometimes, not so secret, anon, ^ sometimes, so much more, than that but a glancing of favoring, a handshake secreted, is actually felt, actually secreted, and rare though via~able, it passes through a longing traveled voyage, over wire, under sea's cabling, through space, hoisted from & by satellite over continental divides just a hop, skip and jumpstart over this tiny planet, and though, but, an amorphous 👍 thumb, a colored 💙 or collared, or a pointing 🫵 body part the like, bears more than just a passing resemblance to another* f o u r l e t t er w o r d its often lost & found dear cuz ^^ full of meanings hidden, or even anon, "I'll be there shortly"^ magic! nml

0

Sep 16, 2025

Sep 16, 2025 at 7:33 AM UTC

nat-lipstadt

Following up on an anonymous 'like' (1)

~commissioned accidentally by a melody, a passing glance, a purring perchance, an idle innocent comment, to be born as the first poem of this day, @7:00am Tue Sep 18 2025, writ in haste, before departing over many islands to another place called "home"~ ---~<>~--- *sometimes, not so secret, anon, ^ sometimes, so much more, than that but a glancing of favoring, a handshake secreted, is actually felt, actually secreted, and rare though via~able, it passes through a longing traveled voyage, over wire, under sea's cabling, through space, hoisted from & by satellite over continental divides just a hop, skip and jumpstart over this tiny planet, and though, but, an amorphous 👍 thumb, a colored 💙 or collared, or a pointing 🫵 body part the like, bears more than just a passing resemblance to another* f o u r l e t t er w o r d its often lost & found dear cuz ^^ full of meanings hidden, or even anon, "I'll be there shortly"^ magic! nml

40

I stick my self in the microwave trapped in a sealed bag and set the time for twenty-four hours, seven days a week. I count the seconds and wait to explode But I don’t, instead I shrink with the bag and we shrivel up melting into one. The bag and me, Cursing the desperation to get out becomes too real. I can’t deal with life on life’s terms. **** God!”, I say to myself. I am the stick and he is the drum. All about me, I’m in control. Obsessed with resentment, I hug my body and wait to die. The burning fumes fill my eyes, my ears and my nose. There is blood all over my body. Fourth degree burn seeps into my brain through my skull. I am sinking but Was me who tightened the noose around my neck ; was me to throw the anchor to the bottom of lava’s abyss. For one split second a spark surges into my soul causing me feel alive and free. Small holes form through the bag growing at light speed. The toxic lava shooting out worry fear, and every loss until the bag is parched. Still sealed in I claw at the holes with what’s left of my hand. Vanishing around me, they all seal up. In two seconds dark will suffocate me. No longer can I fight to stay alive. I close my eyes and prepare to die But when I open them I’m not inside anymore Instead I’m outside the microwave back into my own body, flaws and all. I felt a powerful spirit pull me back to life just for today. I will never forget the beat of the drum sound my name. I am the drum, God is the stick. We beat as one. Together we walk the path, no longer just me, Because God and I are meant to be.

0

May 11, 2019

May 11, 2019 at 1:55 PM UTC

missbluj

[TRAPPED IN A MICROWAVE]

I stick my self in the microwave trapped in a sealed bag and set the time for twenty-four hours, seven days a week. I count the seconds and wait to explode But I don’t, instead I shrink with the bag and we shrivel up melting into one. The bag and me, Cursing the desperation to get out becomes too real. I can’t deal with life on life’s terms. **** God!”, I say to myself. I am the stick and he is the drum. All about me, I’m in control. Obsessed with resentment, I hug my body and wait to die. The burning fumes fill my eyes, my ears and my nose. There is blood all over my body. Fourth degree burn seeps into my brain through my skull. I am sinking but Was me who tightened the noose around my neck ; was me to throw the anchor to the bottom of lava’s abyss. For one split second a spark surges into my soul causing me feel alive and free. Small holes form through the bag growing at light speed. The toxic lava shooting out worry fear, and every loss until the bag is parched. Still sealed in I claw at the holes with what’s left of my hand. Vanishing around me, they all seal up. In two seconds dark will suffocate me. No longer can I fight to stay alive. I close my eyes and prepare to die But when I open them I’m not inside anymore Instead I’m outside the microwave back into my own body, flaws and all. I felt a powerful spirit pull me back to life just for today. I will never forget the beat of the drum sound my name. I am the drum, God is the stick. We beat as one. Together we walk the path, no longer just me, Because God and I are meant to be.

13

you only said what you said because of the anonymity behind it i stare at my screen reading words about me that are built for hurting i’m not shocked to see your words i laugh people use humor as a way to cope but i don’t see what’s funny about pointing out the insecurities of another my mask is slowly cracking and i’m running out of tape once it breaks i don’t think it can be put back together it’s to the point where i’m fine with being used my friends don’t see me they see a tool but i’ve longed since rusted and my shackles are heavier why have I let it get this bad?

0

May 8, 2019

May 8, 2019 at 9:40 PM UTC

smithnwesson

Y0L0

you only said what you said because of the anonymity behind it i stare at my screen reading words about me that are built for hurting i’m not shocked to see your words i laugh people use humor as a way to cope but i don’t see what’s funny about pointing out the insecurities of another my mask is slowly cracking and i’m running out of tape once it breaks i don’t think it can be put back together it’s to the point where i’m fine with being used my friends don’t see me they see a tool but i’ve longed since rusted and my shackles are heavier why have I let it get this bad?

23

Startle response! Wake-- When danger is ante cipated,0h --0n lego-h-overedge aver age verbage re sighin' clinging vines from debunked strings and threads twisted wit'em. Assume, if ye may or plea or will as ye wont, pray means ask. That's all. Here, wit'afewmisstook aitches and spaces: here is what we got, a fresh secret story, un concerning anything you believed you believed of/from/about idea ifify ie able ity ness Reason requires response, Will Robinson. Hidden persuaded, almost, but lost... Really, what sacrifice bought young John Carson to sublimnal top 0'the mind status, for the first two tv generations? Who do you trust? Carson's tv game show debut, aimed at after school, junior high, latch key, wait staff on swing shift or graveyard, the entire set of doin' nuttin' 'round Tea, fancy goin' head t' head wit' Mickey Mouse Club, on all the UHF stations out west. It's 1957, who do you trust? Time's man o'the year, The Hungarian Freedom Fighter Idea, the first stiffed equal-value re belicose cold war victim of the famine for the grammar of kindness and good sense associated with DNA, little green apples, puppy dogs,the straight up command to love them that hate ye, enemies and other words for folk who would just as soon **** you as hear one more word about peace. VOG, words were scrambled, christic crypt vacuum tube signal to noise ratio, caliber calculater pro jection on to the rerewall o'yeardamnedbrain, VOG Cancel Bozo. This ad will **** for us. We can own the 'earts and minds of every grammar 'ater ever. Since Babel, since Eber 'is 'ebrew ef- fective, fervent...strainer at jots and tittlishit self. This ad makes mistook rules po'man laughable, punch'n'judy'ishit: Whom do you trust, the grammarian so like so many Deweyish proguess edumacated teachers, you had this teacher, squint, wrinkle nose, tight jibbs frameless wire rimmed specs, a greying bun, flower print dress wit' the weest bit o'lace, lipless snide corrector's face. A trope archetype, heroes re bel on demand, that was the plan. It started with AN AD. Who do you trust? Black and white, Here's Johnny standing under the billboard, y'know, for the show, standin' like ******* shoulders shrugged, palms up, elbo's bent (contenintal suit, note the skinny tie, why?) Who do you trust? Innocent grin, wordless "Who knows?" or "knew"? Whodjewtrust, in 1957? Cronkite, nicht wahr? See the USA in the USA in yo' Chevrolet, ole! Yew should try Ritalin, for pep. Take Serutan tonight, and sleep, safe and restful, sleep, sleep sleep VOG (Scourby) and, remember Serutan is Natures, spelled backwards. Cue the choir, safe and restful, sleep, sleep fade away ---- Where were you in 1962? Off t'college, watchin' Johnny of Johnnies, Johhny Quest, Johnny Lighting, Johnny Carson on Tonight, there's more... after the news, the dayroom in the dorm, this is whence the quips in the quad were to be sharpened wit' fashion able ible tips, to fit the Esquire *** Hef uniform dress code of mutual hidden persuadeds. Some souls were spared the spread of the original tv virus, VHF, couldn't penetrate the canyon...never subjected to Howdy Doody, our brains were spared the complexes planted via the sit com cowboy war subplot phase of novus ordo secluremishitistcal experiments in alientated mind control. We lived in the desert, in a place a lot like Oscar's Oasis, a wordless Korean Cartoon set in a desert much like mine. On Netflix, 2019. I did not watch the mandated ten thousand hours, even when the deadline for party affiliation mental ascent was ex tended, circa 1985, pre- tending to be a measure of de fencing public universities from the effect of rock and roll, since about 1964 with folk like Dylan and Baez and Hallelujah Jubilee and Jambalaya on d'Baya, Herb's brass on the Baja, where all the girls work it, like 'otel Kali phornia, sticky, sweet, like a taste of Honey. Mr.Bond, meet Miss Galore. OH GOD, in the car from the speaker she heard the idea the meaning in the name, oh god, she squeezed my hand. Honor Blackman plays that role, she whispered. Trust me. It's a good plan. We got these kids! Mom and dad just won the war, had six kids in five years, Levittown di'n't work out, couldn't go home, mixed marriage, from the war. Things hap, cajun catholic wannabe aerospace engineer spy guy, lands in Alamagordo and environs, Summer 1944. Here we are, Equinox, loosing season, 2019, so some prayers were for real. Red somthin'r'other butterflies are riding a rare breeze from the south to the north through my makepeace home. My peace I give, he said, all that passed is unexplored, take all the time you can imagine. My wife knows the names of those butterflies, that's part o'm'peace. Knowin' she cares to remember such improbably beautiful things; soul possessed in patience, is she. footnote 1: Despite Ciba’s efforts to market Ritalin as a ‘pep pill’, the stimulant failed to become a best-seller. But that was not the end of Ritalin’s story. As early as the 1930s, psychiatrists working at a children’s psychiatric institution in Rhode Island, USA had noticed that stimulant drugs could have a positive effect on the academic performance and behaviour of troubled children. Although few psychiatrists took notice of these observations at the time, by the late 1950s, escalating concern about the educational abilities of American children during the height of the Cold War encouraged Ciba to consider a new application for their drug: underachieving schoolchildren. They received approval from the American Food and Drug Administration (FDA) to market Ritalin to children in 1962 and, almost immediately, it became a best-selling drug (google it I didn't write the footnote pard but I forget where I got it.)

0

Apr 6, 2019

Apr 6, 2019 at 7:25 PM UTC

kenpepiton

Believed Persuader

Startle response! Wake-- When danger is ante cipated,0h --0n lego-h-overedge aver age verbage re sighin' clinging vines from debunked strings and threads twisted wit'em. Assume, if ye may or plea or will as ye wont, pray means ask. That's all. Here, wit'afewmisstook aitches and spaces: here is what we got, a fresh secret story, un concerning anything you believed you believed of/from/about idea ifify ie able ity ness Reason requires response, Will Robinson. Hidden persuaded, almost, but lost... Really, what sacrifice bought young John Carson to sublimnal top 0'the mind status, for the first two tv generations? Who do you trust? Carson's tv game show debut, aimed at after school, junior high, latch key, wait staff on swing shift or graveyard, the entire set of doin' nuttin' 'round Tea, fancy goin' head t' head wit' Mickey Mouse Club, on all the UHF stations out west. It's 1957, who do you trust? Time's man o'the year, The Hungarian Freedom Fighter Idea, the first stiffed equal-value re belicose cold war victim of the famine for the grammar of kindness and good sense associated with DNA, little green apples, puppy dogs,the straight up command to love them that hate ye, enemies and other words for folk who would just as soon **** you as hear one more word about peace. VOG, words were scrambled, christic crypt vacuum tube signal to noise ratio, caliber calculater pro jection on to the rerewall o'yeardamnedbrain, VOG Cancel Bozo. This ad will **** for us. We can own the 'earts and minds of every grammar 'ater ever. Since Babel, since Eber 'is 'ebrew ef- fective, fervent...strainer at jots and tittlishit self. This ad makes mistook rules po'man laughable, punch'n'judy'ishit: Whom do you trust, the grammarian so like so many Deweyish proguess edumacated teachers, you had this teacher, squint, wrinkle nose, tight jibbs frameless wire rimmed specs, a greying bun, flower print dress wit' the weest bit o'lace, lipless snide corrector's face. A trope archetype, heroes re bel on demand, that was the plan. It started with AN AD. Who do you trust? Black and white, Here's Johnny standing under the billboard, y'know, for the show, standin' like ******* shoulders shrugged, palms up, elbo's bent (contenintal suit, note the skinny tie, why?) Who do you trust? Innocent grin, wordless "Who knows?" or "knew"? Whodjewtrust, in 1957? Cronkite, nicht wahr? See the USA in the USA in yo' Chevrolet, ole! Yew should try Ritalin, for pep. Take Serutan tonight, and sleep, safe and restful, sleep, sleep sleep VOG (Scourby) and, remember Serutan is Natures, spelled backwards. Cue the choir, safe and restful, sleep, sleep fade away ---- Where were you in 1962? Off t'college, watchin' Johnny of Johnnies, Johhny Quest, Johnny Lighting, Johnny Carson on Tonight, there's more... after the news, the dayroom in the dorm, this is whence the quips in the quad were to be sharpened wit' fashion able ible tips, to fit the Esquire *** Hef uniform dress code of mutual hidden persuadeds. Some souls were spared the spread of the original tv virus, VHF, couldn't penetrate the canyon...never subjected to Howdy Doody, our brains were spared the complexes planted via the sit com cowboy war subplot phase of novus ordo secluremishitistcal experiments in alientated mind control. We lived in the desert, in a place a lot like Oscar's Oasis, a wordless Korean Cartoon set in a desert much like mine. On Netflix, 2019. I did not watch the mandated ten thousand hours, even when the deadline for party affiliation mental ascent was ex tended, circa 1985, pre- tending to be a measure of de fencing public universities from the effect of rock and roll, since about 1964 with folk like Dylan and Baez and Hallelujah Jubilee and Jambalaya on d'Baya, Herb's brass on the Baja, where all the girls work it, like 'otel Kali phornia, sticky, sweet, like a taste of Honey. Mr.Bond, meet Miss Galore. OH GOD, in the car from the speaker she heard the idea the meaning in the name, oh god, she squeezed my hand. Honor Blackman plays that role, she whispered. Trust me. It's a good plan. We got these kids! Mom and dad just won the war, had six kids in five years, Levittown di'n't work out, couldn't go home, mixed marriage, from the war. Things hap, cajun catholic wannabe aerospace engineer spy guy, lands in Alamagordo and environs, Summer 1944. Here we are, Equinox, loosing season, 2019, so some prayers were for real. Red somthin'r'other butterflies are riding a rare breeze from the south to the north through my makepeace home. My peace I give, he said, all that passed is unexplored, take all the time you can imagine. My wife knows the names of those butterflies, that's part o'm'peace. Knowin' she cares to remember such improbably beautiful things; soul possessed in patience, is she. footnote 1: Despite Ciba’s efforts to market Ritalin as a ‘pep pill’, the stimulant failed to become a best-seller. But that was not the end of Ritalin’s story. As early as the 1930s, psychiatrists working at a children’s psychiatric institution in Rhode Island, USA had noticed that stimulant drugs could have a positive effect on the academic performance and behaviour of troubled children. Although few psychiatrists took notice of these observations at the time, by the late 1950s, escalating concern about the educational abilities of American children during the height of the Cold War encouraged Ciba to consider a new application for their drug: underachieving schoolchildren. They received approval from the American Food and Drug Administration (FDA) to market Ritalin to children in 1962 and, almost immediately, it became a best-selling drug (google it I didn't write the footnote pard but I forget where I got it.)

157

People just don’t get it do they? PolitiX - There are no good: -politics -politicians -politicos -policy -polices There is only DISTRACT and TAKE! If it is bad, fake It good if its fake, fake it real if it’s obvious make it someone else’s fault manipulate details and statistics too lead the questions, get the right answers for you Mass Programmng Media secret Not Saying Anything service hide behind our own goods Freedom these days is all about - Policing And the illusion you are in Control Politics by its very nature can only exist by divide the greater the divide the easier to fraction easier to fraction eaier to incite aggression and violence the resulting fear makes us seek peace we legislate our freedom away putting hope in lies the greater the distraction, the easier the take Peace is an illusion, a God-like ideal A frightened little bird hiding in the bough of a tree barely out for a second starving to death confused and lonely because the fear of fear is so great Political Peace is submission and oppression while convincing you that its in your best interests not to resist or persist. You are then provided with a guilded cage distracted by how different the cage is next to you or the fence that divides you but you are safe? All policed by consent the unmerry road to oppression begins and ends with distraction and take all selling illusions of peace and happiness while selling you out And YOU are too distracted to notice YOU are killing your family and neighbors One fear One prejudice One judgement at a time...

0

Oct 19, 2018

Oct 19, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC

sylkie-smoothie

Politics Manifesto

People just don’t get it do they? PolitiX - There are no good: -politics -politicians -politicos -policy -polices There is only DISTRACT and TAKE! If it is bad, fake It good if its fake, fake it real if it’s obvious make it someone else’s fault manipulate details and statistics too lead the questions, get the right answers for you Mass Programmng Media secret Not Saying Anything service hide behind our own goods Freedom these days is all about - Policing And the illusion you are in Control Politics by its very nature can only exist by divide the greater the divide the easier to fraction easier to fraction eaier to incite aggression and violence the resulting fear makes us seek peace we legislate our freedom away putting hope in lies the greater the distraction, the easier the take Peace is an illusion, a God-like ideal A frightened little bird hiding in the bough of a tree barely out for a second starving to death confused and lonely because the fear of fear is so great Political Peace is submission and oppression while convincing you that its in your best interests not to resist or persist. You are then provided with a guilded cage distracted by how different the cage is next to you or the fence that divides you but you are safe? All policed by consent the unmerry road to oppression begins and ends with distraction and take all selling illusions of peace and happiness while selling you out And YOU are too distracted to notice YOU are killing your family and neighbors One fear One prejudice One judgement at a time...

55

but i think what scares me most is if i wake up one day and forgot my own name i'd probably still remember yours

0

Feb 14, 2015

Feb 14, 2015 at 3:28 AM UTC

ally-morgan

11/08/14

but i think what scares me most is if i wake up one day and forgot my own name i'd probably still remember yours

6

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.

0

Aug 23, 2014

Aug 23, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC

luis-mdahuar

Anonymous T. S. Eliot

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.

1