#originals - Hello Poetry

Dinner with a pair of pajama's Here is my tow, the image of sincerity Is meant to be, a looking and little more when A shadow has become my inheritance, for curiosity Lips I never saw, accept me in a craving Time is a worried heart, to lend a dramatic yet Play the part of a speed, for my special stare saving So in more, and so in form; the smile I offer is met? Live well, and *** is my best friend Let me peek one more time, this one is a mightier word Sakes and tools of worthier trades, know me for a sin... Terror in my belly has said hi, to a shyer wry than the world Look and seek, the through of an adored two, I made With the help of a secret friend, and the smile of you Life has become a notorious care in the palm of a grace Here, here, here; spare smiles and actual space for a risks clue Hey, anarchy... When I stare at a green daydream, with the eyes of a stir Many cooler minds go by, and the wink of charity Where a smiles belongs, but there is no way to share? A friend has a smile in the smile of another Saying the obvious, will serve me a droning muses won Looking hard for another friend, the order of things is quite a bother This friend of mine is you, when the little bird flies into the sun... Reality stinks... When I am here to wish, on a star that watched The little bird catch the fly, in the rhyme and reason it thinks Is my silence, but only when you admit a voice has talked...

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May 11

May 11, 2026 at 1:52 AM UTC

david-hilburn

Adopted Children Sometimes Eat Chicken, To Be Nice?

Dinner with a pair of pajama's Here is my tow, the image of sincerity Is meant to be, a looking and little more when A shadow has become my inheritance, for curiosity Lips I never saw, accept me in a craving Time is a worried heart, to lend a dramatic yet Play the part of a speed, for my special stare saving So in more, and so in form; the smile I offer is met? Live well, and *** is my best friend Let me peek one more time, this one is a mightier word Sakes and tools of worthier trades, know me for a sin... Terror in my belly has said hi, to a shyer wry than the world Look and seek, the through of an adored two, I made With the help of a secret friend, and the smile of you Life has become a notorious care in the palm of a grace Here, here, here; spare smiles and actual space for a risks clue Hey, anarchy... When I stare at a green daydream, with the eyes of a stir Many cooler minds go by, and the wink of charity Where a smiles belongs, but there is no way to share? A friend has a smile in the smile of another Saying the obvious, will serve me a droning muses won Looking hard for another friend, the order of things is quite a bother This friend of mine is you, when the little bird flies into the sun... Reality stinks... When I am here to wish, on a star that watched The little bird catch the fly, in the rhyme and reason it thinks Is my silence, but only when you admit a voice has talked...

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Hi! This is about music so scroll on if you don't care. I'm working on my debut album, Drama Kween, and decided to share some of the mini songs that will be in between subject changes throughout the album. They'll have simple instrumentals later on, but for right now are acapella. Give 'em a listen? To Me it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/to-me lyrics: "Sometimes I talk to myself, sometimes I sing to myself. Sometimes I talk about talking and singing to myself, sometimes I sing about singing and talking to myself. Sometimes I talk and sing about talking and singing about singing and talking to myself (to myself)." The Hippie Song it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/the-hippie-song lyrics: "No one says lice and no one says gay, but your modesty and life you better throw it away, 'cause in a world where the media replaces scrapbooks and hearts, if you're livin' like a hippie they will tear you apart if you're livin' like a hippie they will tear you apart if I'm livin' like a hippie they will tear me apart if I'm livin' like a hippie they will tear me apart tear me apart t-t-t-tear me apart!" Goodbye it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/goodbye lyrics: "I'm so tired, I'm so tired. Of feeling I have to cry. I just wanna lay with you in my bedroom and watch the days go by. But I'm so tired, tired of feeling shy. And counting how many tears make up for a year. Is this hello or goodbye? Is this hello or goodbye? I wanna know if this is the last time. Is this hello or goodbye? Well it's goodbye! Baby it's goodbye. I was tired of the games and the pain and the lies so baby it's goodbye. It's goodbye! Baby it's goodbye. So I'm gonna rid you of my bedroom and get on with my life. I'm so tired, I'm so tired. Not gonna waste my time! So I'm gonna rid you of my bedroom and get on with my life."

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Apr 19, 2016

Apr 19, 2016 at 12:03 AM UTC

baileyspoems

mini songs from Drama Kween

Hi! This is about music so scroll on if you don't care. I'm working on my debut album, Drama Kween, and decided to share some of the mini songs that will be in between subject changes throughout the album. They'll have simple instrumentals later on, but for right now are acapella. Give 'em a listen? To Me it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/to-me lyrics: "Sometimes I talk to myself, sometimes I sing to myself. Sometimes I talk about talking and singing to myself, sometimes I sing about singing and talking to myself. Sometimes I talk and sing about talking and singing about singing and talking to myself (to myself)." The Hippie Song it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/the-hippie-song lyrics: "No one says lice and no one says gay, but your modesty and life you better throw it away, 'cause in a world where the media replaces scrapbooks and hearts, if you're livin' like a hippie they will tear you apart if you're livin' like a hippie they will tear you apart if I'm livin' like a hippie they will tear me apart if I'm livin' like a hippie they will tear me apart tear me apart t-t-t-tear me apart!" Goodbye it's on soundcloud.com/iguessimbaileymartin/goodbye lyrics: "I'm so tired, I'm so tired. Of feeling I have to cry. I just wanna lay with you in my bedroom and watch the days go by. But I'm so tired, tired of feeling shy. And counting how many tears make up for a year. Is this hello or goodbye? Is this hello or goodbye? I wanna know if this is the last time. Is this hello or goodbye? Well it's goodbye! Baby it's goodbye. I was tired of the games and the pain and the lies so baby it's goodbye. It's goodbye! Baby it's goodbye. So I'm gonna rid you of my bedroom and get on with my life. I'm so tired, I'm so tired. Not gonna waste my time! So I'm gonna rid you of my bedroom and get on with my life."

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So? What's not replaceable. That's too rhetorical. Let's be practical. From this side, This viewpoint, There's no change. Or it's indiscriminate. I've been replaced By Stand-ins and stunt people. Seems everyone's replaceable, Except for the original, You.

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Aug 20, 2015

Aug 20, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC

francie-lynch

Stand-ins and Stunt People

So? What's not replaceable. That's too rhetorical. Let's be practical. From this side, This viewpoint, There's no change. Or it's indiscriminate. I've been replaced By Stand-ins and stunt people. Seems everyone's replaceable, Except for the original, You.

13

Really used to have it on the ball. Really used to have it on the ball. No longer do I roll along. Looks like I had a fall. Really used to have it on the ball. Bridges that I used to cross— now I just can’t go. They were closed so long ago. I’m always the last one to know. Really used to have me a shine. Really used to have me a shine. I don’t want to twinkle now, even though I am so bright. Really used to have me a shine. Bridges that I used to cross— now I just can’t go. I’m always the last one to know. Really used to travel; now I don’t. Really used to travel; now I don’t. I’m afraid to drive around with such a heavy load. Really used to travel; now I don’t. Bridges that I need to cross— I know I’ll find that road that is never closed. I won’t be the last one to know.

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Aug 4, 2014

Aug 4, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC

fred-schrott

Last One To Know

Really used to have it on the ball. Really used to have it on the ball. No longer do I roll along. Looks like I had a fall. Really used to have it on the ball. Bridges that I used to cross— now I just can’t go. They were closed so long ago. I’m always the last one to know. Really used to have me a shine. Really used to have me a shine. I don’t want to twinkle now, even though I am so bright. Really used to have me a shine. Bridges that I used to cross— now I just can’t go. I’m always the last one to know. Really used to travel; now I don’t. Really used to travel; now I don’t. I’m afraid to drive around with such a heavy load. Really used to travel; now I don’t. Bridges that I need to cross— I know I’ll find that road that is never closed. I won’t be the last one to know.

26

I’m not feeling all that well, my friends. It’s been that way forever. You could see the clearest of days; I would see stormy weather. The doc said that there’s nothing we can do. He said, “Just blame it on the low dopamine and the serotonin blues.” Now some pills will make it all better; others will make it much worse. It feels like I’m in a witch hunt and everyone else threw the curse. I really could use me a broom; this is true. I’ll just get away from the low dopamine and the serotonin blues. I just can’t get out of bed today when it feels like I just jumped in. With this little game of counting sheep, you know that I just can’t win. The mathematician will be retiring soon. He has a bad case of the low dopamine and the serotonin blues. The hours—they turn to days. The days just turn to weeks. A squirrel just had his nuts drop. You can bet it’s one of the meek. Whatever sound, it really was in good tune. Perhaps it was the low dopamine and the serotonin blues. It’s time to get the oil changed— getting thicker deep inside. If I get a few more things fixed up, I’ll have me a real fine ride with a radio inside that ride just for my crew, one that plays my low dopamine and my serotonin blues. So the ambulating bandleader quit. I think that he’s still on the mend. He claims that bad-boy poetry could lead to a worldwide trend. All agree this cat has way overpaid his dues. It’s only the low dopamine and the serotonin blues.

0

Jul 26, 2014

Jul 26, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC

fred-schrott

Low Dopamine and the Serotonin Blues

I’m not feeling all that well, my friends. It’s been that way forever. You could see the clearest of days; I would see stormy weather. The doc said that there’s nothing we can do. He said, “Just blame it on the low dopamine and the serotonin blues.” Now some pills will make it all better; others will make it much worse. It feels like I’m in a witch hunt and everyone else threw the curse. I really could use me a broom; this is true. I’ll just get away from the low dopamine and the serotonin blues. I just can’t get out of bed today when it feels like I just jumped in. With this little game of counting sheep, you know that I just can’t win. The mathematician will be retiring soon. He has a bad case of the low dopamine and the serotonin blues. The hours—they turn to days. The days just turn to weeks. A squirrel just had his nuts drop. You can bet it’s one of the meek. Whatever sound, it really was in good tune. Perhaps it was the low dopamine and the serotonin blues. It’s time to get the oil changed— getting thicker deep inside. If I get a few more things fixed up, I’ll have me a real fine ride with a radio inside that ride just for my crew, one that plays my low dopamine and my serotonin blues. So the ambulating bandleader quit. I think that he’s still on the mend. He claims that bad-boy poetry could lead to a worldwide trend. All agree this cat has way overpaid his dues. It’s only the low dopamine and the serotonin blues.

41

If they made Holy Scriptures out of our deeds How many would we put on display for everyone to read? When Bani Israel was frozen in time within divine words, they did not know they would become timeless lessons for generations to come. Not the liar when he told his last lie, nor the careless while laughing at the cow, not even the pious while he raised his staff. Yet today, we read their stories With heedless hearts , forgetting that we too will be written in pages heavier than stones on scales worth more than mountains of gold. So, why do we pretend that our time is infinite? As though tic tocs were nothing but melodious beats synchronized to our pulse. wal Asr And by time Innal Insana la fikhusr Verily mankind is at loss How can we not think of yesterday as an effigy, And tomorrow’s uncertainty as a form of art? We are artists. And when our hair strands start to reflect the silver moonlight When our eyes start telling century old stories When our joints start pleading with time Will we then finally ask ourselves: What will there be left of us? Originals, or mere copies?

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May 15, 2014

May 15, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC

hida-abbad

Effigies

If they made Holy Scriptures out of our deeds How many would we put on display for everyone to read? When Bani Israel was frozen in time within divine words, they did not know they would become timeless lessons for generations to come. Not the liar when he told his last lie, nor the careless while laughing at the cow, not even the pious while he raised his staff. Yet today, we read their stories With heedless hearts , forgetting that we too will be written in pages heavier than stones on scales worth more than mountains of gold. So, why do we pretend that our time is infinite? As though tic tocs were nothing but melodious beats synchronized to our pulse. wal Asr And by time Innal Insana la fikhusr Verily mankind is at loss How can we not think of yesterday as an effigy, And tomorrow’s uncertainty as a form of art? We are artists. And when our hair strands start to reflect the silver moonlight When our eyes start telling century old stories When our joints start pleading with time Will we then finally ask ourselves: What will there be left of us? Originals, or mere copies?

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