#nineteen
Cheddar cheese on the map –
It’s a chassit
You have shown cheesy cap –
I have read it
Have you warned it’s a trap –
Or you made it?
Marygoldish motel –
You have planned it
Mini-Min, leading mice
Takes to maze
Micy-Mice follows up
So amazed
Chinny chin as appeared –
Jaw in stress
Sharpen teeth, strengthen tech
Hit by mace
How old were you then
While singing “Nineteen”?
Poison ivy or Carrie
Or someone between
All these questions are better
Left with no answer
Neither soil needs no nails
Nor graveyard – no dancers
Oh, the girl
Mississippi born ranger
Take your time
Reconsidering strangers
Take your time
Contemplating the worlds
Hence, accountable
For believes, deeds and words
Nov 7, 2025
Nov 7, 2025 at 5:30 PM UTC
I am soft.
Soft like a peach.
Peachy like a peach.
Curvy,
pinkish,
yummy like a peach.
Soft like little kisses.
I love little kisses.
Strong.
I am strong like a girl.
Fight me, I bite,
not just peaches.
I am strong
of tongue and heart
and arms and legs.
Strong like carved muscle.
I love my muscle.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC
When I was nine
I went to school
Enjoyed hurdle race
Laughed often
Yet to have goals
Love my family.
When I was nineteen
I stuggled in studies
Friendship dilemmas
Laughed lesser
Set to work on aims
Began to love life.
When I am twenty-nine
I have embraced life
And my own shortcomings
Smile more
Let life flow as it is
Love humanity.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 9:58 AM UTC
wants to be my friend, for I am poet-woman nineteen.
she is sweet but sad. super sad.
a good poet who wants to guide me.
but there/theirs is the odor, not faint, of wants wanting,
the pus of corruption behind the curtains,
the Wizard-ess of Oz's
special blackout curtains.
seen how easy, how her illusions,
my medium rare rejections,
morph into her delusions,
and her delusions devolve into
her conspiracy theories.
"SHE will be my mentor, poetess lover, teacher for no charge!"
my parents thinks it's great, she wants (to be) skin in my game.
my parents will find this poem accidentally, exactly,
how I do not want
to be skinned alive.
for I am poet-woman nineteen and still! now, long past
the point of being fooled, the point of no return.
and see no point,
have no intention,
of returning to either valley
***no more con the my mind into letting my body
be-fused.^***
that ain't me babe.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 2:54 PM UTC
It was a time when I was alone,
as I always will and forever be...
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
Trumpets blaring
clouds parting
all staring
in a roar
He's come! He's come!
He's come again
we've too long
ached for more!
Indeed my children
I've woke again
with three years
under my belt
I've been up
and I've been down
I've been numb
and even felt
No longer a boy
of sixteen years
as my journey here
had begun
But you don't care, I have like- what?- three followers?
anyways, I'm nineteen now.
and don't bother, I'll make applause noises for myself with my mouth.
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 3:37 PM UTC
To be nineteen again;
Blissfully ignorant,
Wrapped up in conversation that eventually lead me to be tightly secured in your arms.
Laid out together underneath the warm August moonlight.
We crept outback wrapped in a blanket and you made love to me as the sun came up on a rickety old lawn chair
I was so afraid of being caught,
But we were together and you kept me safe;
Until one day you were the one my heart needed protecting against.
Years pass, like time through the hourglass.
I forgive you.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 2:37 AM UTC
on your very first birthday, you will hear many things
you will not be able to decipher them yet but
they will echo in your ear until you go to sleep,
you will hear about how big you've grown and how
beautiful you are or how beautiful you're going to be
and the highlight of your day will be when finally you
get to cut into that delicious chocolate cake that your
aunt made you and you will run around the yard
and laugh as you trip endlessly and the big kids won't play
with you but that's okay because you're one and you
don't really understand that strange feeling in your heart
when they say that you're too little to join in on their game
of tag and everything is so confusing because
your grandmother said that you were a big girl now but
somehow you are not big enough and you won't be for
awhile but you don't really care because in that moment you
are one and everything is an adventure for you;
from the wet grass in the backyard to the weird kisses your
older brother and the girl across the street exchange
but that just makes everything ten times more interesting
and you are still protesting even though it is futile that you
don't want to go to bed and even though you are still
forced to go to bed earlier than you want, you are happy
because today you turned one years old and you are big
enough to cut the cake with some help from your
mom but still too small to play tag with the big kids and the
concept is confusing but exhilarating and you cannot wait
for the next day and as your breathing becomes more
even you succumb to the dark and fall asleep and everything
is okay because you are one and you do not know yet
that when you are five your mother will stop making time for
you or that when you are ten everyone will stop caring about
your existence and that when you are thirteen the boy in your
school that you really really like will tell you that you are ugly
and everyone else will follow and when you get to be
seventeen you will be so desperate to leave this misery called
life that you will try and force yourself to go into a
different type of sleep, the more permanent kind and your father
will say you're being an attention ***** and your
mother will start to wonder where she went wrong
and your older brother won't care because he won't find
out that you are depressed or sad until the day of your
funeral, when you are nineteen and finally asleep,
although this time; you don't try to fight it
instead you go willingly and succumb to the darkness
much like you did when you were younger and
unaware that life is not a great adventure, it
is more like a never ending hell that will make
you wish that you were one
(h.l.)
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
*I'm nineteen. I don't know where to go. What path to take?
I'm strong yet scared of people.
I'm fearless but I'm afraid to talk.
I have my strong thoughts.
I have my will. But I am afraid. I don't know where to go.
He's 23; got his 30M and his own factory.
He's 22; got his own factory inaugurated by the president.
They're in their 20's. Their bringing in a big chain of a foreign franchise to our country.
They're young. They are meeting with the big bosses of hotels.
Back to me.
Here I am. I'm nineteen. Where do I go now?*
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
Dying is not the real pain.
The real pain is living inconsequentially
futilely, while others forbid you to die,
but forbid you feel earnestly;
seeing a whole unblemished person,
but little do they know
I am already dead.
#
It's not my pain that disgusts them,
it's the cutting
and that's why they treat the symptoms
but neglect the cause
and forbid me to talk about her
because the sound of her name
makes you regret me.
#
I AM MATURE:
I am new and improved and dead.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 7:58 PM UTC
I don’t see people anymore,
only shadows.
I see their past and future
trailing behind and ahead
the constant lagging and catching up of them.
I am the patch-work mish-mosh
made-up creature-being
with Past / Future / Present
silly-goose whatnots.
I am the girl you laugh with at Starbucks
because you’re too ****** bored to live for coffee.
I get it.
Let your smiling teeth do the talking.
I am the one-liner two-timing
bimbo-less wretch of a lady you call friend.
I am the cigarette loser who watches your dogs.
I will burn your children alive.
I am the tree-hugging
nonchalant ******** handing out flyers.
I will plant a seedling then rip it to shreds.
I will wear its bark for armor.
Your precious ******* oak
puts out cigarette butts now.
And from its death we grow cancer cells for fun.
Hell, we’re past time for past-times.
It’s all coffee and cigarettes now.
Coffee and cigarettes
and honking horns.
Coffee and cigarettes and honking horns
and shadows.
No more people.
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
Undeniable draw with a
taste for the taboo,
my world is sparkling
all over, all over.
And he is all over me,
warm weight and bad jokes
and I just can't stop laughing.
The world is my oyster
but sometimes I clam up,
so afraid of how strong
all my emotions are.
But I'm not scared long,
or I'm scared and I'm smiling,
because it feels so good to
look into his eyes.
I'll wade in the waters
in a big pink pool tube
laughing at the riptide as
I'm carried away, I'm carried away,
I'm always getting carried away.
Dip my toes in the gold for a moment,
leaving twenty little prints in
the wake of my day.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
The likes of you I can't describe,
Yet I love to eat between your thighs.
The melody you spake to me
Unfolds my greatest sovereignty.
I crave to quaff all of your spit,
And swallow every drop of it.
Don't cheat me of your tasty flesh,
Those bare and supple ****** *******
Your eyes that follow my firm gaze,
While we kiss and lick and misbehave.
I need to feel each piece of skin,
Smashing girl and boy parts over and over again.
It's such a treat to eat you whole;
I'm obsessed with eating 19-year-olds.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
and here you are, again.
in this dimly lighted bar,
surrounded by middle-aged men
who only want to mess with you.
with your marlboro cigarette in hand,
and your expensive, 100$ whiskey on the counter,
you think you figured life out.
*life is just about to begin,
honey.*
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC