Brandi Jan 2014

Remember the time we ate shrooms
and spent the night lying in a graveyard
my shoe broke on the long walk home
and you carried me across the parking lot
because there could have been glass

Remember the time you saved me
from a boy I didn't want to kiss
you hid me at the top of a rocket ship
and every time he tried to enter
you shoved him down with your foot

Remember the times we laid side by side
on the cold wooden floor and blasted music
all night long till the stars ceased to shine

Remember the time you got out of jail
and walked to my house
to crawl into my bed but found another boy there instead
you quietly left and I had no clue
till you confessed later

Remember the time you left early in the morning
to catch your flight
and I didn't wake up
but when I did there were two CDs on my pillow
that you had spent all night making

Remember the time you said I was wifey material
after I danced on stage
at a white rave
in my black bra

Remember the time I dyed my hair green
and met your visiting girlfriend
and you said I looked like medusa
I wanted to sock you

Remember the time we got drunk and took xanax
and laid in my bed
you made your move then
and I giggled during our kiss
because I was high and scared it'd change us
but it hurt your feelings on accident

Remember the time I started hooking up
with your best friend/roommate
and you had to sleep on the couch
I'm sorry I was so callous

Remember the time you sent me
a christmas present
it was a build-able straw
the best thing anyone has ever given me

Remember the times you tried to love me
and I wouldn't let you
now you're gone chasing heroin
and I miss you so much
that I write to you all the time
I write about you
because I can't stop talking to you
even when you disappear

kat Jan 2014

the only lines that are blurred are the ones that you're crossing
close your horny lips, time for us girls to do the talking
you say you want a good girl
and the alcohol is your weapon
Acting like an animal
but self respect is my blessing
yes I got the power of resistance
as soon as you grab me, I've made my decision
keep ya distance
I've got my own pride
girls by my side
run together like felines
I dont want
and I don't need to be domesticated
if I say no you feel emasculated,
but I'm not your wifey
I'm not your mid life crisis
much more than plastic, my love is priceless

you’re quick to assume my dimensions
but the desire is 1 sided
my potential can’t be contained
by someone so small minded
i’m not going to lie,
there are times i did sing along
but there was always a part of me
that knew that it was wrong
degrading myself through the words in this song
i’m my own savior, dancing on my own
keep your striped pants away from me
and your fancy cologne
never impressed me anyways
cuz who’s gonna want you
when you’re long past your glory days
maybe you’ll actually have to start
remembering her name

if incoherence is a turn on
you can leave with whatever you got from Jamaica
you write a song talkin bout liberating me
read between the lines, verbally date raping me
talkin bout gettin blasted, blurring judgement slurring words
you've supplied enough nastiness for the night, you don't need help from the girls
this song glamorized by the women it defeats
it doesn't count as seduction when you're invading our sheets
don't belittle me when your restraint is as small as your comprehension
I never said wanted you so drop the pretension
I don't wanna get nasty, I wanna get away
good looks and a catchy chorus doesn't make misogyny okay

I heard this song on the radio about 5 times a day
the world couldn't stay away
never listening to the words
singing along with no shame
maybe it's empowering to the girls that sing along
in the heat of the moment it doesn't feel wrong
but you're 100x classier than words in this song
worth so much more than dirty sheets
you wanna feel loved, so you slip into a dress and he slips into your drink
this is all a release, but you don't have to be the dizzy slam piece
just remember who you are
and what the world is saying
growing up,
they wanna invade your innocence
take your impressionable mind for granted
sex on the radio
violence on the tv
models in the magazine
but you're gonna have to tune it out
live on your own
live for yourself,
remember what your mama told you
keep your chin up because they're gonna try to break you

what rhymes with hug me
babe, you could never love me
cuz first you gotta respect me
accept no because maybe she’s just not ready
i’m not a piece of meat
you get to use, abuse
for your own personal grinder
be the one by her side
not the one lurking behind her
music is power
you’re adding fuel to the fire
women in music nowadays
yeah, we’re the survivors
against the cheaters and the liars
contributing to a mindset holding us back
so we gotta rise up keep
their pants up, and their minds on track
sincerely, every blurred line that never went back

Raj Arumugam Mar 2012

1
Hey blogger, poet...no photo, ha?
hmmm...no photo...
not even a nose, no eyes
no part or whole...well, that's OK, I guess...

I know there’s a reason - security, privacy...
Or maybe you’re actually
President Obama
masquerading here as a blogger
President Putin practising his English
seeking Russian domination on the poetry front
Or a Chinese Politburo member
checking out if anyone from Falun Gong or Tibet is here
or a Coca-Cola spy
checking out what new drink
you can concoct for contemporary poets;
or maybe you’re Elvis Presley
retired in Risikesh
with a fair amount of hashish
and a daily dose
of the Anglo-Euro-American girls
who just don’t want to go home

so you don’t want your photo on;
we understand; that’s fine…


2
Or you're just a good woman
in some old-fashioned part of the world
who made a pact with your jealous husband:
OK, no photo, you can blog;
You put photo, you’re out!

And you poor thing, your mother-in-law
sits there during the
supervised half-an-hour
allotted to you at the computer;
and then gives a complete report
when your husband comes home:
She’s been talking to this strange man in Australia –
He’s got a South Indian name but he looks aboriginal

– and your husband turns to you
and he says Who is this idiot Raj Arumugam
you’re reading?
What's going on between the two of you?


Whatever the reason or whoever you’re
fact is I'm human
and
I just can’t help wonder once in a while:
Hey, how do you look?


3
Or all right, you take a shot
and for some strange reason
no picture ever turns out right;
it never captures the true you – does it?
(Come on, you can’t give the world
the wrong impression
of an ogre when you really look
better than the made-up
Bollywood or Hollywood heroes and  heroines)

Whatever the reason or whoever you’re
fact is I'm human
and
I just can’t help wonder once in a while:
Hey, how do you look?

4
Or maybe you’re just the best husband in the world...
You know – handsome, rich, secure government job;
does all the cooking at home and still manages to go
to work and earn decent money and
gets the wife some bed-coffee everyday
before you’re off to work - and so, you know,
your wifey doesn’t want to lose you so she says:
No picture, darling; blogging is OK;
all those international evil eyes looking at you
will make you sick
...especially people with glasses...

(when the real text, you and I know, is:
Oh gorgeous hubby of mine -
I don’t want to lose you to some blogging bitch!
)


Whatever the reason or whoever you’re
fact is I'm human
and
I just can’t help wonder once in a while:
Hey, how do you look?


5
But then it doesn’t really matter –
your company’s good enough;
just look at your screen
and flash us all a smile

Fun verse dedicated to all bloggers without photos; also to those with phoney photos; and to those with outdated photos; and to those with photos digitally re-mastered...
The poem in its current form is updated from a prose-verse piece I wrote in 2007 and posted at some other site...They kicked me out there! No, just kidding - I survived there, and I know you guys here will love me even more after this poem...  (:
teaxstains Oct 2015

Lying on my stomach
In the afternoon sun
Resting my pretty head on the grass
Cushioned by my red-manicured hands
While guys in trucks whistle and call "Hey, hey, round eyes!"
While I peer through heart-shaped sunglasses
You don't mind me being a lil' hussy, don't you?
So I hitched a lil' ride with one
You don't mind me being in somebody else's eyes, don't you?
So I exchanged winks with another's
You don't mind me being someone else's lil' wifey, don't you?
So I walked down the aisle with one
...wishing it was you
Holding a bouquet of roses from him and wishing they were lilies
... from you

Based on the lyrics from the 1975's 'Me' and the video from Lana del rey's 'Honeymoon'.
Charles Leonard Oct 2014

We snap a shameless selfie
And post at once online.
Me and wifey smiling sweet
Whilst we play or dine!

Now some say it quite conceited
To paste one's mugs so much.
But we know its really just
More modernly in touch.

It took a bit to email,
And then to switch to text -
Now it's all on Facebook.
Who knows what will be next?

So easy on our selfies
It's really not self toot
It's more about assuring
We yet live and compute.

Priya Devi May 2015

First things first
I'd like to apologise

I'm sorry I'm not the good Indian girl I was bred to be
I'm sorry I don't make round rotis
I'm sorry that the tongue I use to speak punjabi is broken and hides in my mouth unused until desperately needed
I'm sorry that I don't cook and clean efficiently enough to be wifey material
Sorry that I love who I love and don't hate who I was told to
Sorry that I can't follow gods blindly and not try to sneak back stage to see their shining gold adornments and blue body paints and multiple arms in full and bare glory and scandal

I'm sorry that I'm actually not sorry for any of this
I'm sorry that these are false and empty apologies

I am unapologetically whole
A human not just a race
A female not a trust fund or business transaction

I filter out the good parts of the culture I'm from and the ones I identify with
I'll wear docs under my saari no apologies
I'll grind on dancefloors and do the best Bhangra dance you'll ever see unashamedly

Hareems and hoodies
Bindies and pin up eyeliner
Hedonism and head in the clouds

My ambition is Ambedkar untouchable
My drive is a salt march surging silently non violently through cities
My hometown pride is built in concrete and rickshaw dust,
Prejudice and Bollywood lust

More of a rant than a poem
Wayne Pritchett Nov 2010

im stuck in this reality
that either way i go
nightmares will come to life
worst fears leaving the dark
coming to light in one side
on the other one the happy
heartfelt dreams from years
of courtship come true.
living in this maze
of decisions i could make
leave me sick on a good day
and others pretty blue
cause breaking hearts
never was my thing to do
its happened to me
in the past till recently
now im in the seat
to stop someone's heart beat
a sad proposition
my mission nonetheless
the very thing i hate
smashing a heart
thats in my possession
is now my task to fullfill
believe me theres no thrill
in makin a woman cry
cause the woman she
once aspired to be
my future wifey
is something she wont
witness first hand
dont think for a second
that im a bad man
i just fell twice
the second time left a wound
a bad case of heartburn
that would bring certain doom
from my girl named Spice
girl could shoot some dice
gamblin wit my love
twistin it to seem right
suckin me back in
time and time again
with seduction at a new height
sex therapy like no other
like a poison poppy
lulling me to a stooper
till i get a picture
then mouth gets sweet
cause i remember
the night one November
when my Sugar came to me
that my bestfriend
my homie of all homies
i was sittin in her car
i leaned to the drivers seat
kissed the sweetest lips
both pair believe me
then i smile
from cheek to cheek
she gives me relief
like pepto
but she looks better in blue
shes my little smurf
that turns my heart to goo
the strongest power
a woman can ever hold

now i have sugar and spice
two polar opposites
i stand on the equator
migrating from the later
cause i love hot food
so i slid back like a fool
ended up with a stomach ache
acid reflux and an attitude
something i havent suffered
since i distanced myself
i started feelin brand new
shootin for galaxies
farther than science can see
cause the sky aint the limit
thats what my sugar believes
as she energizes my soul
with sweet bursts of encouragement
Pure Seduction from Vicki's Secret
turned to ultimate attraction
gilroy
her scent makes it happen
my mouth begins to water
strawberries dipped in chocolate
her flavor is what i savor
pleasing her is what i enjoy
thats what i plan for life
we have a mutual understandin
i do me and she do her
but when she in town
or when i come around
our teeth are super sweet
and Sugar is all i can eat
the greatest thing to me
is i can feast with no crash
no indigestion or gas
but ill take the cavities
thats what the dentist is for
having sugar and spice
is far from anything nice
its time to choose
lifetime of loving lust or
eternity of love and trust
no brainer
Sugar is the one for me
cause in the end
she still can get spicey

Raj Arumugam Sep 2012

1
I married when I was young, yeah,
a woman just as hale and hearty as me
and course I still had
to hang out with friends
and weekends I’d be off with ‘em
drinking and spending all the week’s pay
from Friday evenin’ till Sunday night

But my wifey ne’er understood that
and one Sunday night she’a said to me
“Why do you do this, mon? How’d you feel
if you don’t get to see me for so many days?”


“Fine by me, sweetie,” I said
as fast and as witty, even in drink


2
and that night I didn’t see her
and come Monday I didn’t see her
and come Tuesday I didn’t see her
and so on Wednesday and came Thursday,
the swelling went down a little
and I saw my wifey again
hale and hearty
out of the corner of my right eye

...poem based on a joke I picked up at the drinking pool round the corner....and I see my wifey full with both my eyes, her tough hands kneading dough...

Miss me
hug me
kiss me
touch me

make my center
your surrounding space

Don't tease me
please me
never
leave me

you can't king me
it ain't a game

i wear you better
like fitted sweater

you just my size
don't change a thing

no waters wetter
no April better

forget umbrella
come play in my rain

queen reigns
u knight
with me
just right

A.M.
no letter
penned
Dear Jane

u like it
we love it
can't get enough of it

no messin
no guessin
absolutely
no testin

u wake
"Hey wifey,
our hearts not icey
feels so good
to be unashamed..."

no guilt
no filth
no watchin' milfs
i'm yo star
you got changed mind frame

What a blessin
God is present
form of worship
He don't turn His face

our bed be wild and undefiled
sexy and pure
like white lace

no need to fear
our God is here
we dance this dance
so
u n a s h a m e d

no need to fear
our God is here
we dance this dance
so
u n a s h a m e d

. . .


let's do it
again.

© 20 june 2009
Edna Sweetlove May 2015

This is a beautiful "Barry Hodges" poem.

Ah, sweet memories of that night in Blarney
In the stout-soaked suburbs of ould Cork City.
How clearly through the mist of alcoholic memory
I recall how we all piled out of Johnny's bar at closing time
Pissed as a load of proverbial fucking newts;
'Where to now me boys, which bar's still open?'
Shrieked spiflicated Sean O'Shannon
(that's notorious sixteen pints an hour Sean,
the man who won Strictly Come Boozing twice)
As he tottered over to his Pa's new BMW convertible,
Lucky fucker that he is to be son to a Fianna Fáil MEP,
And one not adverse to trousering a Euro or two.

'Sean, me oul' potato, de ye think ye should be driving
With that record-breakin' skinful o' stout
I just seen you put away down your greasy gullet,
Not to mention the quadruple whiskey chaser?'

Enquired loopy Liam O'Lephrechaun as he leaned over
And puked up another gallon of warmish Guinness
Over yours truly as I rolled helplessly in the Ballygrohan road
To the amusement of the gawping bystanders,
Bearing in mind there were a good dozen gobbets
Of half-digested pork scratchings in the froth
Which was causing havoc with my apparel.

So without another feckin' word being spoken
My dear drinking companions and bosom buddies
Left me prostrate and clambered gaily into the waiting car
And roared off into the enchanted Gaelic night;
Singing and smoking themselves silly simultaneously,
So full of the joys of life and the blessed bottle.
And then some bloody stupid American tourist
(doubtless dressed in hideous checked golfing trousers
with a backwards-facing baseball cap on his ugly head,
not to forget his overweight wifey crammed into the front seat
just like a huge white bloated fat-faced hippo),
Came round the next corner in a clapped out rental car
And the two of them got sent to Kingdom-sodding-Come
With a terrible metallic crash which destroyed them completely.

'Oh begorrah and holy shit, would ye just look at the mess
The feckin eejit's made of me Daddy's Beemer,
And it's his pride and joy so it is to be sure!'

Cried Sean O'Shannon in an alcoholic rage,
As he contemplated the largest insurance claim
In the County Cork for the past six decades,
(at least the largest legitimate one anyway).
Whilst I was trying to get my hipster pants down
To avoid filling them up with beery diarrhoea
Brought on by my involuntary bursts of joyous mirth,
(bejasus, 'twas the second time in the space of a single week
and my new girlfriend was getting a bit fussy about hygiene
bearing in mind she was thinking of taking the veil).

How fortunate old Father Tucker and Garda Sergeant O'Toole
Could both (when they'd sobered up sufficiently)
Testify later from their secure vantage point
In the rear compartment of a nearby parked hearse,
(where they were having a threesome with Deidre,
the filthiest wee hoor in the whole South-Western counties)
That the accident was not dear Sean's fault at all, to be sure,
As the other stupid sober yankee bugger was driving at 75
On the wrong friggin' side of the goddam' street
Or probably in the middle, come to think of it.
'Sure but Sean's the best driver this side of the Blarney Stone,
And there's no way himself would ever drive under the influence'

They agreed sagely before going off for another jar or two
And maybe a double knee-trembler with Deidre's fat sister,
One up each of her gaping hair-rimmed orifices.

My heart aches
I can hear it breaking, the violent sounds that follows a volcano eruption
Emotions pouring out in every direction
My tears choking the life out of the pain that surrounds me
My body shakes
Happy at the ability to release all of the things forced to keep bottled up
You see my heart decided that my landscape needed to change
It it started by burning the memory of you to ashes

See there was a time when you could say "Ros you don't understand,  I love you as well"
And I would believe your blatant lie
For I knew you would never leave her
But for a moment I wanted to live in a reality where I didn't have to cry
I clung to you like an addict to heroine
Longing for freedom, but knowing escape was near impossible

I lay still as you touch my body
Hoping that bu not moving you wouldn't rob my soul of its innocence as well
Too busy satisfying your greed, you failed to see my cry
You failed to see that it was my tears that washed your battle scars
And my tears that provided a river for you to drown your sorrows
For I became your support system instead of mine
Giving my all in hopes that maybe then I will be good enough

"See Ros you are different, and she is a bitch" you would say
Almost as though elevating me to angel status
But aren't angels perfect beings?
For their strength shines a blinding white!
And me? I'm as brittle as glass
Breaking at every touch and word.
For I'm nowhere near perfect, as you remind me everyday
Telling me I'm too loud and a little bit stubborn
You said I should stop being an angry black woman, and maybe then you would upgrade my status from "side chick" to "wifey"

But it was at this thought that I laughed and my tears became burning lava of hate
How can a sorry excuse for a man tell me how to be a good woman
For if you were as "strong" and amazing as you say, you wouldn't be terrified of my strength
I laughed at the thought of being your "wifey"
Forced to be forever chained down to a spineless idiot that doesn't know the first thing about love

But thank you for showing me that I deserve more
Thank you for highlighting my insecurities
For this allowed to grow my weaknesses into strengths
Thank you for showing me what I don't want in a man
So that I can now focus on men that posses everything I deserve

So call this the rant of an angry black woman
Because in my anger I have emerged anew
My sorrow has cracked open my soul and made room for new love and new happiness
This silent mountain is now a raging volcano
A being that can destroy and birth life
A strong unshakable force.

Shahrukh Zamir May 2014

I'm unaware to where I am headed,
but today is special to me,
After countless steps and years of walking ,
I've finally hit the remainder of what was for my life to see,

I crossed paths with someone
so genuine and sweet ,
who shaded in that missing piece
and made my life complete,

No idea does she have,
of how long it is I've waited ,
to search for the kind of love,
for which cannot be traded.


c)2011

andy fardell Feb 2011

You blew my heart away
you blew my mind
it started out there
and left behind

you kissed my inner side
and out there too
my darling wifey
I so love you x

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