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Claire Walters Jun 2017
I walked into a 7-11 with you and  then all of the sudden I stopped and starred,
not because a loud and angry guy was screaming at his kids not to touch anything,
but because,
the coffee in the pots were cold and less than half full just sitting there on the counter
and no one was going to come in and drink it,
it would be left there to sit all night getting colder, until someone dumped them and cleaned them out, that's how I was before you came along,
I was a cold *** of coffee left over from that morning that no one wanted anymore,
you see, you seemed to drink the whole coffee *** before it even had a chance to get cold,
And if it did get cold,
You'd drink it anyway,

You got ecstatic over the thought of having caffeine in you to wake you up and make you lively again  
And I love that about you

You are different
You don't care about my non-coffee drinking past
You don't care about the dark rough grinds that took over me and made me undrinkable
You don't care if I was French pressed or keurig'd out
You still love me

You'd still love me if I was skim milk
If I was a skinny fat free latte
You love me now, even when I'm whole milk
If I became a double chocolaty chip
And I love that about you

You love my "I wanna white mocha latte",
and my "I need an iced French vanilla coffee from Dunkin' Donuts right now!",
And my "I am on a first date with this guy walking around with this amazing dude spilling a watered down small coffee all over my hands because I am so nervous, AND I DONT EVEN CARE BECAUSE I DONT KNOW IT YET BUT HE WILL BE MINE FOREVER!"

You're that kind of "I-don't-need- another-espresso-shot-but-I'll-take-an-extra-one-anyway-even-if-I­-do-have-to-pay-fifty-more-cents" type of guy,

Because in the end I realized paying that extra fifty cents was worth it and I'm glad I did
Because this is the best cup of coffee I've ever had and i don't want any other kind,

And I wish I would have tried this sooner and I want this feeling to last forever, because this feeling is nothing like I have ever felt before, it's like the first time sipping a different kind of coffee and not sure how it's going to taste and then all of a sudden your taste buds start going crazy and you lose your **** mind because it is so good,
And you want the cup of coffee to last forever, and it will,
Because you will keep going back to your most favorite and amazing cup of coffee for every day that you live

We went to Dunkin' Donuts again the other day,
We're known as the 7pm coffee drinkers,
One of the workers that's always there gave you two free to go cups,
We're there a lot....

The first thing I gave you was a small coffee with cream and sugar filled kiss,
the second thing was a gift card to a coffee shop,

I love you a latte
And you know i espresso a lot of feelings towards you
You're my 4 packs of sugar
My hazelnut and French vanilla creamer
You're the first thing I think of when I wake up and what keeps me up at night,
You and my coffee
Us and our coffee,
Surprising each other at work with a 16 oz coffee in our hands with a dumb smile on our faces

You are the reason I am happy
You are the reason I love coffee so much
You are the reason I wake up
You're the reason I ask if you want coffee
And the baristas at our school have an odd look on there face when I order not one but two cups of coffee and they can't help but wonder if there's someone they don't know about
And there is
It's you
And you are mine
Gwen Pimentel Dec 2015
12mn: I was babaw. I made a "funny" joke. You didn't laugh. Usual. I made a funner joke. And this time, you laughed.

1am: I changed our chat emoji to a nose. You realized you were turning 17 in 23 hours. I asked you what you learned from this year, and you said "I hate people", and I wished you didn't hate me.

2am: I was asking you what picture I should tweet for your birthday. Why didn't we get a picture last night. You're laughing at me for wearing the huge *** NASA shirt you gave me. (Thank you a bunch for that.)

3am: I asked you how the Mcdo was. You said "good". My tummy grumbled.

4am: You asked me if I was up and honestly I wasn't – you just woke me up. But conversations at this hour are the best so why not? You sent me some songs. And my groggy self listened to them half asleep. You said 20 hours til you turn 17.

5am: Kuya Soy just left. I am sad. You said jmsn at this hour is great – and he is. You're now gonna try to sleep (**** it, just when I was awake). I asked you what time you were born so I could greet you on that time. But **** it was at 7 am, still, I set my alarm. Goodnight and goodbye, for the mean time.

6am: I write because you exist. Woah that dramatic effect though (just kidding). But really, I am awake, writing my greeting for you. I fell asleep with my notes open.

10am: I was still asleep, you messaged me in reply to "I write because you exist", you said same.

12nn: I just woke up and I just saw your message.

1pm: I followed you with my 2016 account. You followed me back.

2pm: You sent me a hugot quote about walking away or trying harder. I think I'm going for the try harder option. You never know how close you actually are to your goal, right? You said you're turning 17 in less than 12 hours.

3pm: Easy to talk to, hard to understand.

4pm: I learned that your mom's name is Nilda. Hi Tita pls like me half jk. Actually not jk.

5pm: You told me everyone was making 365 accounts. Actually, it's 366.

6pm: I told you I was sad about kinder eggs having genders. "idk lol ugh HAHAHA"

7pm: I asked you if you were okay, you said yes. (And I wished that you'd never lie to me whenever I ask if you're okay)

8pm: Some ungrateful btch be tweeting about not wanting to get food for Christmas. You say "BRUH FOOD IS ONE OF THE GOOD GIFTS MY *****", I laughed.

9pm: You made me listen to Jidenna (aheheh ahas) and I'm reminded of your great music taste.

11pm: You told me your family was fighting. This is your "worst christmas". I want so desperately to do anything to make you feel better, and I am trying to help you.

12mn: Still trying. I wanna hug you to absorb all your sadness.
hbd jm
Sunny Snow Jan 2013
PART 1→ Fate Put Us Together For A Reason…

Once upon a time on a blue and green planet there lived, humans; a rebellious species, prone to both war and peace. Among these humans lived two very special people. Their names were Marco and Gina, and little did they know, that they’d become heroes of earth, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves a little.

Let’s begin with our heroine Gina; she went to the same high school as Marco, though she did not share the same social status. Gina was what you’d call an art nerd. She spent the majority of her days at Hill-Town High in the art room. She could paint, draw, sculpt, mold, fire, and shape anything into existence. She had what you’d call, a gift, for art itself. Gina also spent most of her days alone. She had just moved to Hill-Town from out of state; thus not knowing anyone, she lacked a social life. That and it really didn’t help the fact that she was one of the most timid young ladies known to man. She had a whisper of a voice, and bright blue eyes that often leaked tears down her pale soft face. She wore her long black hair down to cover up her gorgeous face, mainly due to being insecure about her looks. She often wore band t-shirts and jeggings or ripped jeans. The first person Gina met at Hill-Town High was our hero Marco.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry” Gina gasped accidently running right into Marco, the star quarterback for Hill-Town High. “Don’t sweat it ***, really it’s no problem, here let me help you pick up your books” Marco caringly replied. Still Gina insisted she could clean up this mess herself, trying very hard to avoid the blood pumping towards her cheekbones. Why was he so kind to me she asked herself? He could have simply brushed her off like light snowfall, but he didn’t. This puzzled Gina for at least a week; it mainly confused her because no one had ever offered to help her, especially a hansom young lad such as Marco Johnson, star quarterback. He kept waving to her in the halls, and grinned at her as if he was trying to avoid blushing as well just like the moment they met.

Time passed and neither Gina nor Marco had made a move, though it was getting to the point where they both knew **** good and well, that they liked each other. It was now spring and school was coming to a close, finals where lurking down the hallways and students began to get excited. Soon the last day came…

“Hey, your name’s Gina right?” oh, he’s talking to me Gina panicked inside unsure of what to say back. “Yeah, that’s me” she replied. “Well Ms. Gina I was kind of thinking, I know you like me…” oh ****! He knows, she thought. “and I was wondering if you knew, I like you too?” Marco began to do a little dance of flirtation. “And further more I was wondering if such a lady as yourself, would like to accompany me on this thing called a date lets say this Saturday night?” Marco finished cunningly. Gina froze, was Marco seriously asking her out, or was she being punked or something? “Um, ah, I mean yes, totally, I’d love to.” Gina replied. “Cool I’ll pick you up at let’s say seven tomorrow night then.” And with that Marco disappeared down the crowded hallway. Gina sighed, what the hell am I gonna wear she though, no, no what the hell am I gonna do? Gina had never been on a real actual date before. So her parents would for sure have something to say about a boy of all humans pulling up in their drive way and sweeping up their little girl.

Saturday at 7pm came and Marco marched his way up to Gina’s front door. Unfortunately her father answered. “Who are you” mumbled the tall lanky man who was Mr. Delaware. “I’m Marco, Gina’s date…” Marco replied nervously. “Oh well, step inside son, she should be down in a second, but you know how long girls take to get ready” chuckled Mr. Delaware. Once Marco stepped inside the mismatched old house, the awkward silence between the two began to grow. That is until Gina came running down the stairs…

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaad” she exclaimed, “Where the hell is my…” she paused seeing Marco at the bottom of the stairs…”Hairbrush” she finished. “well I think you look fine as is” said Marco in the sweetest voice possible. “haha, ok well there goes needing to brush up” laughed Gina.

Gina and Marco then said their goodbye to Mr. Delaware, and headed out the door and into Marco’s Old Chevy Silverotto. “So where to?” asked Marco. “How about that one drive-in theater off highway 91?” suggested Gina. “Nice idea ***. I’ve been wanting to go there for ages” replied Marco.

The two departed out of the Delaware’s driveway; it was roughly a half hour drive to get to the drive-in from Gina’s house. Marco put the radio on and they soon found out how big a music buff they both were. They began challenging each other back and forth to “name that tune”. Gina couldn’t stop grinning and neither could Marco, it seemed as if they were meant to be there, together.

Just when all seemed to be going as planned, Marco’s truck began to make a funny sound. He pulled over to check the engine, Gina followed. “I can’t figure out what the problem is, I just got this out of the shop like a week ago” exclaimed Marco, he was a little up in knots about his truck not working, especially while being on a date with a pretty girl.

Then out of nowhere both looked up, hearing a loud rumble headed their way. It was something like a meteor, but it wasn’t from what they could tell. They noticed it landed about a mile west of them. Once it landed and they heard the huge BOOM in the distance, Marco asked Gina if she’d like to go see whatever it was with him. Unsure but wanting to know herself, she said she’d go with.

They set off towards where they saw whatever it was land. Half way there both became a little tired, and without thinking they sat down below an old willow tree, and soon both fell into a deep sleep…

PART 2→ Waking Up In Another World…

“Hey, hey, Gina, wake up.” Marco started to shake Gina. “Hey” Gina said sleepily. “Um, Gina, I don’t think we’re in the same place we fell asleep in” said Marco. “What do you mean? We didn’t go any…” then Gina opened her eyes, noticing Marco was right, they weren’t in the same place. It was almost as if…no…they thought, it couldn’t be, another planet, that was completely not possible. But as legend has it, they were, they had somehow came upon a planet in the Andromeda galaxy, one galaxy over from ours. This planet had been undiscovered by human kind, and its name is Linx. Linx at first, looked as if it was deserted.

The two began to panic, unsure of their surroundings, knowing they couldn’t be on their own planet, and wondering why they had oxygen and how had they gotten to this place? They began to argue and fuss, scared of what could happen or what had already happened. Then they saw a figure, somewhat like their own walking towards them from the distance. They could tell he couldn’t be human, he had greenish-blue tinted skin and long purple hair. As he drew closer, they became more terrified.

“I’ve never seen anything like him” said Gina, “he looks nothing like an alien.” said Marco. Both shocked and somewhat in shock, they stared pale in the face.

“I’m so sorry, I thought, I mean, gosh, I’m awful sorry. You humans must be scared shitless right now.” Said the tall greenish-blue man coming up to them. Both looked at each other, wide eyed and seriously confused. How in the hell did he know their language?

“Look I can read your minds, and I swear I’m not here to probe your brains, or eat you, and I know your language because I’ve studied the human race for quite some time. My name is Zee, and you are on another planet. My spaceship crashed on earth when I was crossing the Milky Way galaxy and so I attempted to beam my way back here and somehow you two got caught in my beam.” Said Zee, he had a tone in his voice of apology and worry. He knew they were scared and very intimidated.

Marco, after hearing Zee’s explanation then proceeded to faint. Gina then stood up “ok so you’re telling me we got transported here by mistake? So does that mean you can get us back?” Gina began to boarder line yell at Zee. She went on for about ten minutes, that is until Zee interrupted her.

“Look, human” he said “I accidently got you here, and getting just me here, takes a ton of energy, energy humans can only dream of, and if you want to get back to your pretty little planet, I’d suggest you ask a little more kindly towards the one who can get you there. My kind would burn you alive if they knew there were humans on this planet, I however am willing to protect you from my own kind. Meaning I could die too. So pipe down and help your friend he seems to have passed out due to shock.”

Gina then humbled herself, finally grasping what Zee had said. She then attended to Marco, who was coming around finally. “So what you’re telling me, is we have a slight chance of going home?” Gina asked Zee. “Unfortunately a very slim chance” said Zee hesitantly…”see the leader of my planet, Linx, has disliked humans for a long time and well, he recently destroyed planet earth.” Zee said. This made both Gina and Marco puzzled for a second. How could it have been destroyed?

“What can we do then?” Asked Marco; “well our leader Zorix also has the power to turn back time, but convincing him to restore earth will be one hell of a battle, first we’ll need to seek you into the castle he lives in, next get you face to face with him, and lastly get him NOT to **** you” replied Zee.

“Well then, seeing as we got a lot of work to do, we better get a move on” Gina insisted. And at that the three brave friends set off towards Zorix’s castle.

PART 3→ What Happens Behind Castle Walls, Stays Behind Castle Walls…

The three hiked a good five miles to get to Zorix’s castle, once they got there, they had to figure out how they were going to manage getting two humans inside without getting caught.

“Well we could dress up like you Zee” suggested Marco. “No, they will see right through it, but nice idea” replied Zee. He was convinced there’d be no way to get them inside without getting caught, that is until Zee had a brilliant idea.

“I could make it look like you are my prisoners, and somehow get you close to Zorix” Zee brightly stated. They all agreed that it was the best idea they had.

At this, Zee lead Gina and Marco inside the castle. It was a dimly lit, cold, wet place. A place where, without a doubt, humans went to die. The whole hallway just screamed death and destruction. Little did Gina and Marco know, Zee had been keeping something from them; He was Zorix’s son.

When they got to the grand room, a room with ginormous ceilings and no windows, just lanterns and chandeliers, the first thing that caught their eyes, was the tall, slim figure that was Zorix. He, like Zee had blueish-green skin but instead of having purple hair like Zee he had bright orange hair, almost as if it was glowing neon.

“Son” said Zorix in a cheerful and loving voice. Son? Gina and Marco looked at each other in confusion, unsure of their future now.

“Hey dad” replied Zee in a much less cheerful tone. “What is this unannounced greeting my son?” Zorix said cunningly.

“I’ve brought these humans, their names are Gina and Marco. I accidently beemed them here by mistake when crossing the Milky Way galaxy. I take full responsibility for them, they have become my friends and I’m here on their behalf.” Zee took a sigh of sorrow, he knew his father would be disgraced.

“So you’re siding with these pesky humans over our supreme race? Is that what I’m hearing” roared Zorix.

Zee hung his head, looking at the marble flooring, and mumbled “Yes father”

“Well maybe you’d like to join them in their fate” said Zorix, as if he was unsure if he was ready to **** his own son, because of what he believed. His voice at first was confident but near the end began to shake.

“Actually I’d like to challenge your army to a duel, if we win, you use your strength to reverse the destroy of their planet, Earth. If we lose…” Zee almost choked on his next words…”Then you can do what you will with us” he finished.

PART 4→ Duel or Die…
This is the beginning of my half *** short story. Its getting longer and longer, but not enough to become a book. So I guess its a long short story. Please comment, and let me know if there's anything I can do to make this better (BTW this is a rough draft) Thankx, Bex
Avery Glows Jul 2014
People moving in
With their suitcases on board
Standing everywhere
Fumbling to their seats.
"MAY I SEE YOUR BOARDING PASS?"

Yes please.  

Plane flies on the runaway      
Diving into the clouds    
Into a puff of wind                            
and smoke.
We fly.      

I sat unmoved
For the rest of 16 hours.
I thought I had been fossilized.
Hardened.                      
But I saw it flying    
Us flying to mi casa
Time is rolling backwards
My lips tugging backwards  
No more jetlagging.          
I held on to a light of a hope    
with a lopsided grin.
Perhaps,                          
It's time to say hello
To the land long forgotten
The land with cozy saturday mornings
Where we have dinner at 7pm, not 9.
The land that I long to be in
Where I had been long gone
is 60 minutes apart.
Amanda Nov 2014
I'll be your 4am dream.
Could you be my 7pm kiss on lipstick-faded lips?
And fingertips meeting yet again at 11pm?
Just one of those days.
I hope you, you and all of you are well!
xo
anastasiad Nov 2016
British telecom has elevated expenses to its line local rental and call up rates to the third quantity of a year. At any given time when home budget is inside their tightest, BT are making the choice to improve charges, making the normal cell phone monthly bill get out of ?Eighty three in order to ?17 per year.

BT's traditional residential phone contact expenditure is getting larger 9 % to 7.Half-dozen pence a moment, up coming from Several.4p just one last year. A supplier's series local rental costs are furthermore rising through 30p every thirty days, to ?A few.90. Prospects nonetheless shelling out their costs by means of income will likely shell out 60p monthly more, with additional rates regarding services for example phone patiently waiting proceeding by ?.60 to 70 monthly to ?. BT in addition have clipped their evening hours off-peak intervals rear sixty minutes, to 7pm.

The modern get in touch with price tag improvements should come straight into affect on 04 Twenty eighth. It's supposed to affect the 4 million BT buyers that aren't about all-inclusive simply call plans. However, the more expensive line leasing charges may have an impact on most BT buyers no matter what which usually company they can be using.

Robert Wilson, cellular in addition to high speed office manager during moneysupermarket.com, said: "We have seen plenty of selling price mobility within the land line current market just lately and also sadly to get shoppers the majority of the goes happen to be to boost the expense of obtaining and employing your house telephone line.In

Pure Marketing improved it is selling prices simply by 6 % last year, plus Sky's set to lift it has the charges throughout 06 eventhough it has not yet mentioned how much. TalkTalk in addition plans to raise call prices by means of 06 % plus series procurment by simply A couple of per cent.

"Other companies will inevitably stick to BT, once we observed using repetitive copycat value rises really,In . claimed Wilson. "This most recent selling price increase will do minor to ease the rising prices that Britain industry is going through."

Households can confront further expenses caused by the availability associated with high speed broadband in order to countryside spots. "It's true that the phone system companies are pressurized to get the roll-out regarding broadband to countryside regions," stated Paul Doku, engineering qualified from uSwitch. "It appears to be however that telephone instead of broadband prospects might be paying off the cost."

Family clients are going to have to get steps into their individual fingers to maintain expenditures lower. Buyers will surely have to research the best expense plan to match their demands, quite possibly moving to an arrangement that provides free of charge morning in addition to end of the week calling, reely 'anytime' necessitates those at your home every day. Series lease prices could be saved by simply changing out from the big solutions with a more compact company such as Primus that offers line leasing for under ?.Seventy nine 30 days.


http://www.passwordmanagers.net/resources/How-to-Cleverly-Use-the-NSIS-as-a-ZIP-Password-*******-54.html ZI­P Password *******
Evelyn Mar 2023
The last 5 years feel like a numb, confusing blur.
Like I laid myself to sleep for a while.
Like I needed to be dead to the world.

Then one day I suddenly awoke to a longing in my chest.
A feeling I couldn't fight.
A quickening of my breath.

The outside world shone through the cracks and my legs guided me straight outside.
Fresh socks on the grass of spring's early morning dew.
As it soaked through to my feet, I felt alive again.

But who am I now?
And who the hell do I want to be?
What just happened?
And what am I doing here?

I keep blinking to wake up but I'm finally awake.
It feels like I've forgotten everything, I'm trying to remember who I am again.

I've been playing Eurotruck Simulator for 2 days straight.

Mindless driving through virtual country roads.
I've jack-knifed my truck and need to pay the service toll.
Have to deliver this big bag of seed to Hamburg but I'm stuck in the middle of the road.
The traffics piling up and everyone's honking their horns.
This is way too much pressure.

“Don't Worry Baby” By the Beach Boy's plays softly in the background.
But in fact I'm very much worried.
Whether in my online trucking game or the real world it just never seizes.

All I asked for is a day where I'm not incapacitated by my own thoughts.
They're useless, nonsensical pesters that make everything go wrong.

Stupid worry gremlins with bells on their ankles.
The harder you try to ignore them, the louder they love to play.
Until your mind is an orchestra of gremlins beating their feet into your brain.  
It's impossible to get anything done when they're dancing away.

What matters is I'm still trying my best.
I'm leaving the house again, changing my old routines.
I even went out past 7pm.
What a real rebel I'm becoming.

Breaking old boundaries takes time but false 'safety' doesn't serve me anymore.
I sat in the pub last week and finally felt 24.
Maybe I'm a little behind compared to everyone else.
But I managed to save my jack-knifed truck and ship the seed to Hamburg, everyone has their own strengths..
Jack of all trades.
Master of none.
But in Eurotruck Simulator I'm No1.
Beep Beep I'm here
Trevor Gates Dec 2013
[Fade in, Opera hall; Orchestra is tuning. There is a murmur of people whispering.]

Once upon a time
There was the House of God
And the stage of life

Its key players were man and woman
Supported by Sin and Death

The masterstroke of creation was not of the flesh

But of the souls

[Audience laughs]

I hold in my hand
The diary of a madman

Lined with notes and scribbles
Rotten thoughts to nibble

Food for thought
Or all for naught

Such eloquence and strife
From a torturous life
For these we must share
Alas, who would care?

Would you?

Let’s find out

For in this show tonight, in the heaps of winter fables
And changing seasons
The spectacles and visions shall not be enough


On a magic carpet set for Baghdad
In the Mirror sea of Venus
The performers are all here
For your entertainment

The illustrious Obsidian Theater beckons you all
The Masquerade of the Dream Catcher Ball


With masks, we put on our true faces
Our bare faces are mere disguises
That we wear in public places
But here we’re full of surprises

Mrs. Jujubee isn’t a housewife here
But a sultry dancer, moving to the tune of
Cat house romances

Mr. Wukanlyck isn’t an account anymore
But an eccentric ******* who plays at
Both ends of the field

If you know what I mean.

All these people are able to be their true selves in the light of the stage
How come they cannot be this way in life?
Why can’t they laugh with the bohemians?
Why must it all be a secret life?
Why can they not tell their spouses?
Their parents?
Their bosses?

Why can’t they be what they want to be?

Because…

Their spouses mock the idea of such silly notions and aspirations.
Their parents disregarded their dreams in the hopes they will one day:

“Wake up, get their life in order, so they can get a real job, earn a living, buy a house, get married and contribute to society like a normal person; have a decent life.”

If you can call that a decent life.

Why become another cog in the gears of the economic machine that fuels the fire of excess industry?

Why owe more money to lawyers, bankers and debt collectors in the hopes of owning a piece of property that is just like everyone else’s?

Why push out more unwanted kids into the world where there are already millions without homes, food or even families?

Those “free nations” are ok with owning guns than knowing what’s really happening in the world.  

If another opposing religion or country threatens your comfortable lifestyle then you’re ok with having your government go to war.  

You are slaves to your TVs

Your smart devices

Your phones

Your social networking

Your computers

Your shopping rituals

Your misunderstood purpose

Your narcissism

Your arrogance

Your defensive self-righteousness

Your thin empathy
An obtuse apathy

Indecisive, nail-biting listeners of classroom objectivity
Ridiculing social solicitors of mall shop dogma
The young millennial generations stamped with no discerning identity
Than the loss of critical thinkers which are replaced with
Cultural zombies and robotic masturbators dripping over
Dim screens of cyber people in the millions, filling minds with
Misconceptions, misguided eroticism, racial diabolism that will be
Passed on to friends, family and teachers who will disregard sources and substance
But use the same destructive and dividing strands of unrest
That will define their day to day lives
From the words
The minds
Of frustrated, opinionated
Suburb bloggers
Middle class pioneers that one day
will rule the country
Preaching of the day that all are troubles will be
“Resolved”
And all our past misdeeds and sins shall be
“Absolved”
The crusted, rustic chains of our forefathers’ bane shall be
“Dissolved”

And then maybe we’ll be able to embrace each other
Like in the storybook pages of our dreams
Where men can love men
And women can love women
And the faces, the masks
Will not be needed anymore
Because what we present to the world in the face of that
Higher being
Or simple sun
Will be what we truly are
We will have one life and one face and it will be all we need
Not like before, where our closets have that hidden space
Where we hide our real faces
With that suit of dusty skin
That everyone once in a while we have to sneak away and wear

Little Colette De Salle
Petite college student with features like
Audrey Hepburn
Singing in the underground garage
With Stevie and his troupe
Her songs haunting, elegant and pure
About people she once knew
Her parents
Beaten to death on the streets
By simply reporting the truth to the world
Which their bosses and media supervisors
Will determine what the “truth” is
And what is newsworthy at 7pm

She is Ms. Colette de Saille
And will be dead before she graduates
Because someone didn’t like what she said that one night
Calling out the Pigs and suits making sure no one paid
For her losses


This is Ken Sosnowski
But tonight on this stage he is Aveda Cicada
And she is who she is from birth

Like you all that sits before me

With shadowy smiles
And grins holding flowers, doves
Secrets

And

[Applause]
The Obsidian Theater, entry 16
Apples and Blackberrys
The fruits of your belonging
On the table… place of prominence
Screaming ‘look at me!’
Clinging to their network
As you do to yours

Talking to your colleagues
Eyes flitting from one to other
As your fingers anxiously search
The table next to your glass
Constantly seeking the reassurance
Of your disconnected connectivity

Voices compete with ringtones
Over the rumble of the traffic
And the hollow echoes of your laughter
I can’t help but ask myself
Where are you?
Are you really there?
©Jacqueline Le Sueur  2011 All Rights reserved
kiryuen Jul 2015
oh, woe is me
forgot to water my cacti for five months
and accidentally left all my sentences hanging
I can’t stop drawing smiley faces with noses
and making rude jokes and laughing at them
my pet turtle is dying
came home and sat by him for a long while
his eyes are swollen and his shell peels
and still he tries to stay alive
I quietly watched him struggle to breathe
then proceeded to accomplish nothing
the sun says “ha, loser” as it goes down
the moon fades in on cue,
looks at me and tells me “get yourself together”
my mother prays about me every night
my father rebukes me every morning
I’m sorry I can’t be more useful
or bring more glory
lol did I just pretend to be upset because
I felt that that would be the correct (expected?) reaction
like I’m supposed to feel some remorse
to be indifferent, or not to be indifferent
that is the question
the sun is setting just for me
I can give up too
is it possible to give up if I never tried
did I try
I lay in bed and pretend to sleep
I’m sleeping so I don’t have to face anything
what do you mean put in effort
what kind and how much effort do you consider effort
dragging my body out from under the sheets in itself is trying
making myself some coffee to stay up at night is trying
gathering my books into a neat stack on a table is trying
oh, but you know, I can’t say I actually tried
I don’t want to talk until I’ve cleared my head
not like there’s anything up here anyways
God please grant me an ounce of common sense
while struggling with myself, I think of the smiley face with the nose
I’m guessing that’s the kind of expression I should be making about now
I should stop treating life like a bad joke
but I have yet to find something that makes me cringe that badly
or facepalm myself that hard
occasionally the universe tells a good joke
I slap my knee like a great grand pappy and laugh nonstop
sometimes it is annoying and meaningless
I sit in the shower for an hour nonstop
obligations glare at me harder
“go away I’m naked”
“so not only are you a failure, you are a naked failure”
I slap my knee and laugh nonstop
that was an example of one of life’s good jokes
I get out of the shower and into the bed
again I pretend to die
vaguely I recall
the other day stepping out the shower all I remember is
please forgive me please forgive me
three words tripping over themselves and mind reeling
watch out, shitstorm approaching
by habit, I panic
see the correct response is to climb out from under the sheets, make a coffee and arrange my books in order
don’t forget to look really anxious
I spend most of my life huddled with knees drawn up against my chest
praying for storms to pass and wars to end
7pm the sun will tell me again “can you not be pathetic”
and the moon will fade in on cue, saying
“you’re still all over the place”
I don't want to regret
I no longer want to forget
So I shall accept
That I'd want you to collect
These feelings that I want you to protect

I hope this third time around
No harm would be bound
No intruders shall be found
No obstacles we can't pound*

I want you to be mine
And me to be yours
So forever shall be ours
:"D
Marcus O'Dea Dec 2013
I am not a sentimental man but
I remember the tallness of some relatives ceiling and the lights around the table where they sat.
I remember the other, squat ceiling where we lined up and my grandmother cried and in the next room there was body laid out.

It is 7pm and my uncle is giving me birthday money.
It is 3am and he's screaming, pepper spraying a man in handcuffs.
In the same way I'll walk home and see them waving their nightsticks and the boy on the corner with his head leaking.
I'll take a different route home and forget it by that evening. Later I'll suddenly remember it forever.
But I am not a sentimental man.
Aa Harvey May 2018
7 pm wake up call


Today I had the strangest dream.
There was you and I, working side by side,
In a café down the street.
I guess we were on equal pay.
I started work and there you were,
Sat with me until it started to rain.


I think it might have been in France;
Maybe Paris, maybe right where we are.
We were just talking and having a laugh;
I hadn’t been there long, but lovers find their car.
You knew the café like the back of your hand;
I knew right then and there, that I was becoming your man.
One day I heard you singing a song;
Since then you and I were getting along.


Another round table served, on another day;
We had not yet fallen in love.
There was another room, an outdoor room, beyond the main café.
A place for him and her to sit and talk and find their way.
It had extra tables, with umbrellas
And stacked up chairs against the wall,
For when it was busier than it seemed today.


There was the boss who said “Allo, allo.”
His wife, the owner, I saw here around,
I guess that she would come and go.
Another waitress was cleaning up
And you and I were just talking and falling into love.


You were sitting on a bench
And as we talked, I kept you warm, by holding you next to me.
I think we had always been destined,
Because as I looked at you and we each knew,
You began to lean on in…


I think this could have been our first kiss;
I’m not quite sure I remember it all.
I’m painting pictures as I speak.
I am afraid they will all soon disappear,
So before they do, my one last view,
Of our café will be spoken of here.


You were dressed in black and white.
I was waiting on your words.
We were sober, but we were becoming us;
We were so happy in this moment, so drunk on love.
I was sat smoking a rolled cigarette,
In a wooden wheelbarrow that fitted two.
This wooden statue was our bed;
A feature of the outdoor room.
The wheelbarrow grew in time, as did our love;
By the end of that night, we were true.


It was the middle of the eve;
The moment was right, to say it right,
I think you were made for me.


Then later our boss and his wife they spoke.
He was annoyed at the young couple treating the café like a joke.
“When are they coming back in?
There is work that needs to be done!”
She said “Relax darling, they are having fun
And can’t you see that they are in love?”
And with that, the boss he simply rolled his eyes;
She rolled her eyes too and then they both smiled.
“Oh my love, it has been a while,
Since our old café had a new romance.”


You and I were sat becoming one and the same,
In our oversized wooden wheelbarrow,
Hand in hand in the rain.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Diana C May 2014
7pm:** it's one of those nights
8pm: watch tv
9pm: keep distracted
10pm: plan for tomorrow
11pm: go to bed
12pm: wake up and try to read until I fall asleep
1am: remember your charming smile and the way you run your fingers through your hair.
2am: flip angrily through the pages that I skim over because for some reason I strongly believe that a book on love will help me get over you
3am: think about why you don't and never did love me
4am: count the hours until I have to get up and blame you for keeping me awake.
5am: you used to keep me awake for things like talking about our futures and now I'm left here with half an empty bed wondering why your future doesn't involve me
6am: wake up tired from my 15 minute sleep and wonder how even on the darkest nights the sun still manages to rise
7am: I'm drinking coffee out of a cup that used to touch your lips every morning, like me, and I know you won't be back for either of us
Amanda Aug 2014
The little buttery feelings that slips between the corners of the heart you've carelessly painted red.

Could I have it Monday to  Sunday?
Breakfast fix, 7pm Kiss & at 12:00?
Hey hey lovely souls!
xo
Jack Turner Aug 2010
bzzz bzzz goes the cell phone
               ****
it reads
My reply

Shush, we're not talking
about you. Movie n wine
at home later? Maybe
jacuzzi?

bzzz
               Mmm ill call u love. Im
               tired and cant be out late.
               I have work 8am to 7pm :\
wow, ain't that lame
to which I say

:-\ ok

a few minutes later on
and I text again

I love you. Im sorry for
being sulky. I just miss
you and really just want
to see you.

there it goes again
               I miss you too i love you
               so effing much

:-( only 2 days but its felt
like an eternity

               Agreed
and then poetry
gets the better of me

My love. You leave me an
empty vessel when you
are away. A ship without
sails. The sun without a
sky.

Her reply comes
               Hunny :)
followed up quick
               Im going to make this an
               early night
Ouch that hurts
Caught me off guard
Do I be sad?
Or do I be smooth?

I cant even talk you into a
quick yogurt session? Ill
drive. Just there and back.

my phone rattles back
               Im grumpy tired and
               waking up early lovebaby
shoot quick

And I can put you to bed
w a smile on your face :)

               Be a little more specific
               :)
oh god
and here comes the barage

A back rub, a massage. A
head rub, a hug. A kiss, a
squeeze. Lets just say
that this lil finger went to
market.
And as Ive said, I just
want to see my baby. So I
apologize if Im being
pushy. Ive missed you
more that ever this last
day.

               Hehe lovebaby *** youre
               adorable

Adorable enough to get
you to agree to a quick
trip to yogurt or
something? Pretty please
w a cherry on top?

               Youre.sweet and tempting
               like.a cherry :) lovebaby
               lets watch the snow fall
               one day

Well then have a lil taste
of the cherry. It promises
to have you home by
11:45 :-)

               Gah golly u make this
               hard
And here it goes
full blown
oh god
oh no

Say yes and it wont be
hard. Say yes and know
you made me the
happiest boy ever. Say
yes and know you get to see
your love. Say yes and
know that my eyes will
twinkle like your own
personal stars tonite. I
miss you :-(

               Jack. I love you
One more desperation push

I love you too baby.
What have you got to
lose? And Im sorry Im
hassling you. I really
really miss you.

and then the minutes drag on
a few and then ten
maybe a few more and

Im sorry, Ill stop. I hope
you have a good nite.
Sleep well love. I miss
you.

and then
there it is
               I love you

I love you too baby. Im
sorry for being crazy.

and time stretches on
the beats grow long
and in reply*
               Ill call u whn im home
the beginnings of the ...
Anais Vionet May 2023
Grandmère = Grandmother

Peter and I are in Paris, we arrived this morning. We’re staying at my Grandmère’s Champs de Mars residence - near the Eiffel Tower.

One of my Grandmère’s oldest and dearest friends is a Catholic Bishop. When I was little, he was ‘Monsignor Jean-Marc’ but now he’s ‘Bishop Jean-Marc.’ He’s been around so much of my life, he’s almost part of the family. I wouldn’t be shocked to find out that he has his own apartment somewhere in each of her houses.

Jean-Marc is old. I think that’s fair to say. He’s white haired and the kind of short that comes on slowly, with age. He’s a disciplined kind of thin and his deep wrinkles are tanned from years of gardening. His teeth, always visible in his salesmen’s smile, are as white as altar candles.

When I first glimpsed Jean-Marc from the hallway, he was sitting on a cream satin settee, in conversation with my Grandmère. I knew something was up because he was wearing his red trimmed cassock and red sash, instead of his usual black suit.

What I couldn’t see from the hall, was that the room was packed with matronly ladies, dressed in matronly dresses of glittering white, glittering beige, glittering yellow and glittering gold. Argh! I was wearing a white Polo tennis dress, Keds mini canvas sneakers and my hair was ponytailed. I wasn’t dressed for a social. I swiveled to give my Grandmère a sharp look, but she took that moment to be interested in the drapes.

As I’d come into the room, Jean-Marc stood and greeted me cordially saying, “AnnAAAas!” raising both hands up over his head as if he were channeling the pope. Ok, I thought to myself, this is happening. I offered my most innocent smile. “Bishop Jean-Marc,” I said, while performing an involuntary curtsy, conjured from somewhere deep in childhood reflex-memory.

I don’t like priests. Slam me, sue me, **** me. When I’m around a priest, I’m reminded that I’m a sinner and I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. It’s the worst kind of guilt for a Catholic, because we don’t earn any credit for it.

Opp! I just thought of Peter, so there’s lust, right on queue - that’s a sin. Unfortunately, Peter’s not here. He and Charles went on a chauffeured driving tour of Paris. Envy - there, another sin, I’m on the road to hell but I can’t seem to stop, one thought just follows the next. Where’s a priest when I need one? (to confess) Just kidding, there’s one right in front of me.

The bishop began asking me a string of unimaginative questions, like an old friend catching up. “How’ve you been? How's university? As he grilled me, slowly, like a steak in a smoker, the herd of matrons ambled slowly our way, closing in to listen in. It was a scene straight out of the walking dead. I wanted to escape but my Grandmère held me in place, with the full wattage of her proud smile.

Ordinary boredom is an un-experience and all you need to free yourself is a phone. High society boredom is one of Dante’s circles of hell, because you have to interact with strangers when you could be doing something fun instead. The gathering finally broke up about 7pm and I was free to go. I was starving, my throat hurt from talking (about myself) and I hadn’t heard from Peter. When I checked “find my,” it showed him there, somewhere. So I went in search.

Peter was in his (our) room, on his back near the edge of the bed, one shoe off and one shoe on. He was as still as a corpse but a soft snoring suggested he wasn’t dead. I leaned over him, his black hair was somehow more disheveled than usual and his lips, moist and slightly parted, looked invitingly ready to kiss. I didn’t do it though, that would have been asking for trouble. Instead, I smelled his breath, slowly and deeply. Cognac. Charles had gotten him drunk. How helpful.

Once I tucked Peter in, I went looking for Charles, only to find him shooting billiards with Jean-Marc. He looked none the worse for wear and the gleam in his eyes told me he knew what he was doing - avoiding me with the bishop.

As I prowled the room, trying to decide what to do, while picking up objects and weighing them as objects to be thrown, a server brought in a tray with three bowls of cassoulet,* which smelled incredible, my stomach growled, and I remembered I was starving.

Charles, sensing a shift in the mood, said, “He (Peter) needed to reset his body clock. He’s young, he’ll be as good as new in the morning.” I just laughed. Charles knew I’d come looking for him and he’d ordered me dinner. I can’t stay mad at Charles; he knows me too well.

The cassoulet was to die for.
We’ll start our vacation, for reals, in the morning.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Cordial: “in a politely pleasant and friendly way.”

Champs de Mars = “The field if Mars” It’s the name of the Park (the ‘Central Park’ of Paris) where the Eiffel Tower is (my grandmothers house is across from it).

*cassoulet = a gumbo made of white beans, pork, bacon, duck, goose and toulouse sausage in a tomato stock of garlic, onions, herbs, and goose fat. A dreamy French comfort food I haven’t had since last summer.
Eileen Prunster Apr 2012
never believe the promises made
by an addict in the cold 
                                  light
                                  of
                                  dawn

for when midnight
                                falls
and the sirens song sounds

those
promises
cannot
be
heard
Addictions come in many forms
bcg poetry Feb 2015
I make up time limits in my head...
“If he doesn't call me before 7pm, he doesn't want me.”
“If it takes him a day to respond, he really has found someone new.”
“If I have one more sleepless night because of him, I don't talk to him for a week.”

The limits never turn out
I still have hope
Even though I'm desperately in love with you
and to you I'm just the kid sister of a friend you used to know
Cry Sebastian Jan 2010
Trying to capture a moment, but the moments ever changing.

I paint in oils
-oils outlive my mortality
-oils extend my message
oils prolong my life after death.
It's a gamble because anything could wrong when I'm not there to care for it.

7am:
So I start by sitting in front of a huge blank canvas.

7:05am:
So I start by sitting with a mirror in my hand.

7:30am
The canvas is intimidating.

9am
My mind tries to capture the final product
- composition,
style,
toned down?
bright colours?
thick smears of paint?
hyper realistic?
or make it an abstraction from reality?

11am
I half-fill a jar with turpentine to clean my brushes.
I fill a small jar there with linseed oil to thin the paint.

11:05am
On my palette
-a small squish of cobalt blue
-proceed on thinning it.

11.10am
Lift brush,
dab it into the paint...
almost reach the canvas.

11:15am
I study my face to see where I'll start.

3:15pm

4 hours pass.
The sun has moved.
The shadows are softer
and the shadows longer.

Accurate painting is not about talent as much as observational skills-
thats why you can stop for years but if you have learnt the art of seeing you will be able to paint a more realistic picture than when you quit the previous time.

7pm
All my contemplation sees the sunset
without a stroke being applied.

I flick a switch and a new light appears-
harsher with darker shadows-
it doesnt allow the paints show their true colours
but at least it is consistent.
I don't like what I see in this light.

Days have passed me in front of this mountain-
when I started it was sheer will that got me here-
not because I want to
but because I know I can paint better than most a
nd some will think it's worth something-
might  make a bit of extra cash on the side.

When I was younger I pumped out canvasses faster than toilet paper
but now I dont know Wonder Boy anymore-
too much distance between now and then.

Out of sheer impatience I decide to put a wash over it. I mix a bright orange mixture. and start brushing the canvas-
the brush is too slow so I start pouring it out of it's linseed mixture bowl straight onto the canvass and rub it with a cloth until no more white can be seen.

I hate the result-
my compulsion led me to trade a white blank canvas
for an orange one-
I'm nowhere closer to coming up with an idea than when I started and now I have to wait two days for the paint to dry. By that time I would have aged two days and my resolve might not be what it is right now- the little I have left.

So the final result of my painting-
a blank orange canvas hiding behind my bedroom closet.
noseyrosey Jan 2010
She didn’t want to turn out like her mother and her grandmother. She didn’t want to be a housewife/mother living with an abusive boyfriend. She wanted a better life, not just for herself but for her young son.
She dreaded each day at 6pm, when HE was due home from his day working as a Taxi Driver.
If his dinner wasn’t ready on the table as he walked through the door each night, she knew what was going to happen. She also knew what would happen if she didn’t dress herself up, make up and all. Everything had to be in its correct place, including her.

It was 7pm. HE still wasn’t home. She knew where he would be…

It got to 9pm and she knew HE was now home, as she could hear him trying to open the front door with his keys. She listened to him struggling for a while, enjoying his disorientation.

HE started shouting through the door at her, the abuse would begin for another time…

She got up and opened the front door.  HE started lunging towards her.  She managed to move out of his way right at the last moment, before he slumped to the floor in a semi conscious state, which he regularly got in.
As she stood there staring at HIM, her young son snapped her out of the trance. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs crying. She knew what she had to do, like most nights. She took him up to bed and settled him.
After settling her son into bed, she walked back down the stairs.  This was when HE started the abuse again. HE had managed to get himself up from the floor onto the sofa.
He started yelling the usual verbal abuse she gets from HIM everyday. He was demanding his dinner. She put his dinner in the microwave and tried explaining to him that it was ready at 6pm, like he requested.  There was no reasoning with him in his intoxicated state.
This was when the physical abuse started. He started kicking and punching her. She just lay there. She had realised after so many beatings from this vile vile man that it was easier to lie there like a rag doll.
As he stood there looking at her he felt more anger rising up inside. Something in him snapped. That’s when he grabbed hold of her throat and started to throttle her, until she lost consciousness.

Later that evening when she came around, she found HIM lying in a pool of blood on the floor, next to her.
She was slightly disorientated for the first few minutes. Until she realised that HE was not moving. She checked him for a pulse, but he was dead.
After a while she managed to pull herself together and realised that her son was in the house. She ran up to his bedroom to find him crying uncontrollably and shaking with fear.

WHO KILLED THE ABUSIVE MAN?

WAS IT THE GIRLFRIEND OR THE SON?
Carmen Noir Jun 2013
A girl will stand on the edge of the
Brooklyn Bridge at 7pm,
The water will stare back
at her
as the cars will glide past her,
(the rejection of her resume meant nothing
in comparison to the rejection from her lover.)

A man sits in the car in his garage
a capsule in his hand
and a gas leak in the trunk.
(no amount of promotions
which earnt him that car
could keep him afloat
as tax collectors harass his neighbors
for a tax return they are not going to
recieve.)

A woman will stand on a 2ft high
stool,
a rope in her hands
and a letter on the bed.
(the unborn child she caressed with alcohol
poisoning lingers in her mind
as she cannot bear the thought
of telling her husband that she loved whiskey
more than she did him.)

A boy will reside
in his fathers study,
his favourite book rested on the desk
and a gun in his hand.
(it never really was quite the same
after he left.)
Bansi Adroja Oct 2019
You belong to the credit card statements on your coffee table
to your bosses emails at 7pm
to plans you can't cancel
to conversations that just don't end

You belong to morning commutes
to browsing produce same time every Tuesday
to the caffeine fix it you missed
to sad days you want to escape

You belong to everything
but you
Belonging
PamelaH Dec 2014
By 7pm I will get dressed in my night gown
And leave the window open
Like some corny movie form the 70’s
I will hope you climb through my window and make love to me

By 8:30 I might turn on the news and mute the TV just to pretend I care about the world

At 9 I will turn my phone off, after checking 337 times if you have texted back
When suddenly realizing you have not
I will open the bottle of wine that’s hidden in my closet

By 10:30 I will probably be too drunk to realize I am drunk
So I will turn my phone back on
And realize love life is lacking
Or life at all

By 11 you will have turned your phone off
Probably annoyed at woman who keeps ringing
Me

By 11:15 I will surrender into my room
Probably too drunk to stand on my own
I will turn computer on and begin typing

It’s 12:14 now.


Wondering if sheep count drunk women as they fall asleep
liz Mar 2013
i am not firm
and we are not like-minded
and maybe we are wrong
or care just right

you are not merciful
you are angry
and vengeful
and appreciative
at the wrong moments
and so curious
with the wrong questions

and i am not patient
but am ill tempered
and am made of estrogen
and progesterin
and every night at 7pm
7:05 7:23
i release more
and want to cry alot

we are bad breath in the morning
and secret geatures and pet names
and we are bread and soy
and lazy individuals
and i need hugs
and you need me
Laura Hunt Jun 2014
I'll never forget the look on your face.
I'll never forget that phone call at 7pm.
You nudged my arm and by the look in your eyes I could tell something was wrong.
"Uncle Markie is dead."
Four words that should never be in the same sentence.
The first thing you say to me is, "how do we tell her?"
My eyes filled with tears and they wouldn't stop falling.
This was the first time that my father;
The man who has always has the answer,
The one with the key to fix everything,
Didn't know what to do.
I didn't know what to do.
How can you tell your mother that her brother, her best friend is dead?
I'll never forget how she tried to run away.
She kicked and screamed and cried.
There was nothing I could do to fix it.
She kept saying, "it's not true, it's not true, how did it happen?"
My dad and I looked at each other
How do you tell someone that their brother took his own life,
Because he couldn't bare living life any longer?
I had to be the one to tell you,
I wish I could take it back.
Because seeing your mother break before your very eyes does something to you.
My uncle took a piece of me with him.
I'm still hoping for the day when I can be whole again.
But I don't think that will ever happen.

— The End —