Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#lifestyles
It’s hard to quantify experiences, but to coin someone else's original phrase, ‘you know it when you feel it.’ Now that I’m living in Paris, at my Grandmère’s 76-room ‘hôtel particulier,’ I find myself on the itchy edge of wealth, influence and power and while I don’t consider myself necessarily of that class, I’m certainly exposed to attempts to drag me into it. Many afternoons, as I come home wearied by classes and braced for hours of study, there are these silver trays with little white, gold embossed envelopes (invitations), casually placed where they’re unavoidable, and it’s not unusual to find that one of the CMs has laid out a dress for me and a suit for Peter - though we seldom attend these events. I find myself vociferously defending my schedule (for the thousandth time) - and I’ve only been in school three weeks: “Grandmère, I’m in med-school, I have homework.” Let’s wax freeversely of the upper-class (as if I belonged).. *In elegant but confined houses where lives unfold in drawing rooms and the inhabitants are sharp and snobbish. They struggle against social and ****** constraints - frustrations essential to the drama and pathos of wealth. Let the rabble be messily heterogeneous and agenda-set “inclusivity.” It’s nothing to us. It hardly foregrounds harmony or authenticity. Civilized people are more reticent and buttoned-up. It’s sexier and more romantic, to drive toward marriage, where lovers work to deserve each other, and individuals integrate into couples. Failing this urbane integration, love degenerates into solipsist libertinism and eventually, these sad outcasts catch their deaths - apart and alone.* . . Songs for this: Am I the Same Girl? by Swing Out Sister It Hasn't Happened Yet by William Shatner
0
Oct 1, 2025
Oct 1, 2025 at 6:43 AM UTC
crusty
It’s hard to quantify experiences, but to coin someone else's original phrase, ‘you know it when you feel it.’ Now that I’m living in Paris, at my Grandmère’s 76-room ‘hôtel particulier,’ I find myself on the itchy edge of wealth, influence and power and while I don’t consider myself necessarily of that class, I’m certainly exposed to attempts to drag me into it. Many afternoons, as I come home wearied by classes and braced for hours of study, there are these silver trays with little white, gold embossed envelopes (invitations), casually placed where they’re unavoidable, and it’s not unusual to find that one of the CMs has laid out a dress for me and a suit for Peter - though we seldom attend these events. I find myself vociferously defending my schedule (for the thousandth time) - and I’ve only been in school three weeks: “Grandmère, I’m in med-school, I have homework.” Let’s wax freeversely of the upper-class (as if I belonged).. *In elegant but confined houses where lives unfold in drawing rooms and the inhabitants are sharp and snobbish. They struggle against social and ****** constraints - frustrations essential to the drama and pathos of wealth. Let the rabble be messily heterogeneous and agenda-set “inclusivity.” It’s nothing to us. It hardly foregrounds harmony or authenticity. Civilized people are more reticent and buttoned-up. It’s sexier and more romantic, to drive toward marriage, where lovers work to deserve each other, and individuals integrate into couples. Failing this urbane integration, love degenerates into solipsist libertinism and eventually, these sad outcasts catch their deaths - apart and alone.* . . Songs for this: Am I the Same Girl? by Swing Out Sister It Hasn't Happened Yet by William Shatner
Continue reading...
27
Liberty bell has rung for the longest time friends come and go All the time why can't it be The best news* I ever heard in a long time Sleepless nights at bedtime Sunset opens worth waiting for Healing- time -heart We are on Prime- Time Long healing coffee Anytime peace of mind Waiting for the right time How come its more the wrong time We all work fulltime long hours Hits you in a whole lifetime Nothing heals I love my trees Maple cherry blossom wild flowers Having strong bold coffee in the Eiffel Towers The train is coming but the wrong one All alone holding time With your coffee cup Please stop to think Stirring my coffee Long wait sometimes life stinks   Cell phones and so many links Long sip- my- neck- out  Amazon jungle long time -out         Long night-out      Long wait hooked like a bait Please God! I cannot wait             *        *        *        *        * Long sip Villa- man dressed Vet He stuck his neck out to her mind and body set
0
Jun 21, 2023
Jun 21, 2023 at 11:57 AM UTC
Long Healing Coffee
I sit and ponder My hip and knees hurt like no other You ever wonder About your age? Growing old, Unable to escape I do It’s frightening My emotions Spiraling Think about this Its enlightening Yes, we grow old But today is the Youngest  i’ll ever be. That’s something to think about If you ask me.
0
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 9:04 AM UTC
Something to think about ..
Happy smiles Busy souls Hundreds of lifestyles Achieving goals Taking time To readjust Writing rhymes Of love and lust Holding each other Kisses that never miss a beat Our hearts always flutter The taste of you, so sweet Dancing around the living room Together, we will bloom
0
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 12:53 PM UTC
Sonnet
She kept making herself smaller, Putting herself into a box To try to fit into everyone else's world Silently praying that one day She would come across someone That would open her up
0
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 10:03 PM UTC
Box
no equality, no justice just racism and sin another man murdered? pray for him! we live in a world where its rare to be comfortable in your own skin. everyday is a fight trying to discover who you really are within. money rules everything, and for some of us it takes over greed, drugs, lust, in control completely. the only thing we ever see is *** and a glamorized version of reality. our minds are consumed by the idea of a perfect world yet the only thing all humans long for is love. most of us never find it, or when we do we have no idea how to handle it and the one person who genuinely loves us ends up leaving with no intention of returning. we live our lives to work. we follow this routine. there are those of us who slave for little wages. those of us who cannot afford a luxurious holiday or birthday. those of us who can't provide for our children and loved ones, and those of us who are ignored, and awaiting justice. we struggle. some of us never overcome our battles. that's life, that's truth.
0
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC
truth.