"anatomic" poems
They ain't got *****
They can't have *****
Ugh they always go to Starbucks and order a frappuccino **** them rich uppity white ******* get on my nerves."
They all listen to One Direction and 5 Seconds of Summer,
"I really wish I had white girl hair."
All white girls have to be this, have to do that,
This is my average day at school.
It's not true.
I know because I am a white girl
But I'm not your "typical" one,
I listen to Pantera and Phish,
I don't "always" go to Starbucks.
And I have an *** thank you very much,
I'm not rich,
I'm not poor,
I have the same anatomic structure as everybody else,
I don't need to be singled out for something that isn't true about me.
White people aren't the only that can have stereotypes made about them.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
Terrestrial flame, inner pandemic
Euphoric feeling, pain so miasmic
Anatomic design, enduring torture,
Return now my sorrows, dark, true and pure,
Searing red tears, dreadful desires,
Obscuring vision, blackness transpires,
Fading views of the world, moment of truth,
Bestowment of death, trouble of youth,
Lament is the few, who whisper the name,
Obedient to fate, the wanderers blame,
Obsessed with the blood, hearts final cry,
Dawning his last moment, he wonders why,
Jan 25, 2010
Jan 25, 2010 at 10:27 PM UTC
CONJECTURL AMBIT
The earliest thought- I was a blind rock: mineral feeling of an uncut idol, my pressed wings induce a false sleep. I don't trust me as part of a building because my frozen nerves are still related to ****** business and my stability depends on old things' roots. Like a snail in the memory's spiral I make slow circles in a Levantine tower, living places are overlapping to form an upright native land, a growing mirror with all my moments in a wintery evangelical succession, annular heads raising from a well where peoples' liquid mind mix. I can hardly bear it, wearing fancy clothes I try to cover the mythological Meat, the inhuman side of the flesh, the anatomic stains. Drinking tea I clean my conscience, oh, lovely furniture and fine art objects, do you realize that I'm completely happy in your abstract presence? Do you realize that you keep my eternity in precious fragile eggs? You bloom at the end of the matter, you touch the other sky, the brown heavy sky polished by silvery cats-indefinite slippery ideas about beauty, the intimate effort of a deeply ploughed woman in order to cicatrize herself. The meadow's malachite door is open, I can see the primary glaucos mass of terrible friends, butterfly marrow, the viscous veins of raw angels, my negative steps under the ruined house, our unforgettable bodies swimming in the magma. So, I'm a resting beast between fish and bird, nothing is totally seen or totally heard, this light Protection, the transparent humanism is the only glamour of the organism
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC
I tinkered around
and had all the pipe lines
before i climbed three
stories on a 32 foot ladder
made of glass
to the top of the spinning
glowing neon lights
where marriage was based on
the feeling in hearts instead
of anatomic positioning
when the primer didn't set right
and water destroyed my counter tops
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 5:42 PM UTC