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always anxious Mar 2015
Dearest friend, parent, lover
Whoever might be reading this
I'm sorry i couldn't stay strong.
I'm sorry i couldn't stand it anymore
It's not anyones fault, i just wasn't meant to be here.
Just like those flowers that never bloom. They just grow and starts hanging a bit, then dies.

Dear younger siblings.
Don't look up to me, look up to people like daddy or momma, they're happy, i weren't. One life lesson i've learnt is that happiness doesn't come without courage, but with too much courage you'll get tired and let go when you finally get there, and you'll end back where you started.

Dear older "sister"
You know who you are and you're probably reading this right now, smiling at how i mention you as my sister. You're the best person to ever be in my life, and even though you told me a couple of years ago that you were lesbian i never rethought the meaning of your hugs, cause i know we're sisters.
If it wasn't for you i would have done this a lot earlier so thank you.

Dear parents.
Don't cry, i'm not worth your beautiful tears..  I have nothing more to say than i know you lost me, but don't lose courage.

Dear best friend.
Thank you for always being there.
Thank you for telling me that everything will be alright.. It just hurts me to say that you were wrong.. And i'm sorry cause i know this will bring you pain.. But i know you have some other. Nice friends who'd support you.

Dear stranger.
I'm sorry if i was goind to know you in my no longer exisisting future.. You're better off without me anyways..

Dear myself.
I'm sorry i can't hold on anymore, i know that you had your happy times, and that a lot of people longed for your life, but i couldn't stand it anymore..

Dear person
I'm sorry the voices became too much.
I'm sorry i ran out of place to make scars.. I'm sorry i couldn't stand this inner pain anymore.. Dear person.. I'm sorry.. Goodbye..
((I am just gonna make it clear that i am not killibg myself.. I just want to write my suicide note so i have it when i do.))
When the world is in trouble and theres nowhere left to turn.
Well your **** outta luck till then theres the Gonzo report.

Live from hidden location in a Florida basment broadcasting
now it's time for the Gonzo report.
With your team of in depth and seldom sane news team.

Your anchor man Gonzo   co Anchor that Batsheba
weather chick Neva finally gotta mention Flores.
Sports with your favorite ****** Richard Shepard.

And then theres Paula Swanson  who's sitting on my other side
I dont really know why  but eveyone likes Paula so who gives a *****.
Who wants a sandwhich im just saying.
And are field reporters Jeremy Wyatt,Chris Smith,And Mr E,

This just in.
A old man lost control of his car running over 17 people
and seriously ******* off one dwarf.
And if your keeping track at home kids it's old farts 20 crazy texting while driving teen *****   15.

Theres big trouble in Cairo kiddies  with more  no the situation
are own version  of snooky Bathsheba   take it away.
the camera zooms into  the   queen of Hello.
I swear to God Gonzo if  dont back the **** up i will knife you
you crazy *******  and put some ****** pants on you ******.

Yes Bathsheba ******* the outside  and  kinda ****** all around as well
but enough with the foreplay children.
Oh look Paula made cookies!
Baths began here report on troubles that had befallen this country
And as i mixed a drink it made me wonder.
Were the **** is Eygpt.

Opps looks like i dropped my cookie.
Like a mighty ninja with a hot flash I was met with a searing
pain to my nose.
In the name of Cindy Crawford what was that for?

Thats for even thinking bout going under that table.
But .
No Baths replyed  then hit me again.
The pain the agony my modeling carear.

Now with coverage from the World Series  heres Richard Shepard
Richard Can you here us.
The cam camera  cut  to a shot of a monkey masterbaiting in the Bronx zoo.

Yes the production team of Goldie and Joel M Frye
when not watching hot oil dwarf  varsity wrestling death match
there top notch.

Richard  dear lord man were on air it's no time for that now.
This isnt Chris's  bachelor party.
That isnt Richard you ****** Baths  spoke in that charming yet
Voice that told me if i didnt stop I might get a free *** change
voice of her's.

And it's not the world Series you half wit it's the Superbowl.
No  wonder  there was no mention of the stanley cup.
Baths what do you not know.
So after i mixed another wild turkey and put a mirror under
Paula's nose to make sure she was still breathing.
I told her  the roofies really help with the nerves.

Finally The artist formely known as Jack Horner   was live on the screen  from some cult meeeting it appeared.
*** they've captured Fergie.
Richard take it away.

Well these ***** keeping fighting over this ball.    
Runnin back  and ****** forth its driving me ****** bonkers.
Oh yeah amigo I these knickers ya asked for.
Richard held a pair of black *******  to the camera yeah
smell of  no talent  and overproduced songs.
dam you slash.

Back in the studio.
Ummm haha well i didnt ask him to steal anyones *******.
Paula broke the awkward silence i dont wanna go to school.
Paula you alright?
***** you John Travolta.

Ok well also at the world series of poker Jeremy Wyatt and he's got a special guest Taylor Swift.
Great god of the traveling  flying squirrell monkeys pants.
anything but her.

Screaming like a naughty little school girl with a  bad texting  habit
on a unlimted plan i dove underneath the news desk for it's better
die at the heels of Baths and a tap dancing kinda drugged Paula than   face a evil more sinister than Drew Dillegence or Ghandi  combined.

Jeremy was in the danger zone note even knowing it for beneath that
yummy little body layed the soul of satan  himself.

It was Nashvile  a few whiskey laced years ago  I was a drummer
for local sessions  she was 16 I.
well I wasnt.
you mix in some drugs s0me cars crashes knocking over a liquor store or two.  
That little hell cat had a thirst for danger  and some  lets just say
weird habbits   okay it was more like a curse.

Strange things happend to here past lovers.
John Mayer,  The gay cowboy from Broke Back Mountain  you know
that movie about the sinking ship, and that lesbian  from the Jonas Brothers.

Yes just as soon as she wrote a song you were good as dead.
You'd vanish to here secret torture chamber were her music played
non stop   and your blood was drained slowley so she could feed
her own talent or lack there of.

Jermy puzzled  hey Gonz you there Baths umm Paula ?
Underneath the saftey of are second hand news desk hey look gum.
huddled togather like three okay one drunk monkey and a passed out frat sister and a very ******* Baths please dont stab me im
fragile   like a aged bottle of good whiskey im just saying.

We gotta make a brake for it look Baths  you distract her im blowing this joint  like a long winded madman  on a five day binge
let loose on old country buffet.

Baths   spoke   in a  language  that was always a challenge  for me
called sanity.
Gonz if you dont let me out from under this desk.
Im going to rip your heart out and feed it to the  homless dwarfs.
And heres a napkin Paula's drooling on you.

I have a heart?

After a brief break.
And another check to make sure Paula was still breathing we
returned.
Dear lord where's Jeremy!

Screams could be herd Jesus Richard   it's no time for killing hookers
But 10 dollar beers  are a real kick in the ***.
Oh well Wyatts  gone he'll be missed.
this just in Taylor Swift to release her new single Why  Not  Jeremy!

Dear lord sweet sallys *** it was code she had taken him hostage
in the love of all things lady gaga  someone had to save my amigo.
except me  cause that ***** was crazy  and she's got a hell of a bite
im just saying  stay  strong   Jeremy  and think happy thought's

I could feel the ****** clamps and smell the burning flesh
from the car battery as we speak but enough  bout me and skeeters
personal life.

now its time for the weather with finally she's gotta mention Neva voice like a angel  Flores.
thanks Gonz that southern bombshell replyed okay in the south.

Alright Neva that was great  like i need to hear the weather.
I havent been outside in  seven years.

This just in Mr E  has been taken hostage in Cairo.
Well kids all i can say is as much as this hurts
we dont deal with terrorist  like we could raise a hundred bucks.

The bulletin came across the wire Raitch with a look of dont **** with me   Gonzo  although Pepples  thinks your okay in a ***** kinda pervert way.

All hells breaking loose  a all girls school for hot super models    
in trainng.
Baths  in shock and mock concern replyed oh dear lord.
I dont who has chops to cover such a story in short notice.
Raitch  Oh Baths I dont know either   ive herd  there ripping  each others clothes off   hair pulling its worse than a prison riot with
hot half naked strippers.

Baths kept speaking but in the name of chain gang women
i was lost deep in thought over ******* and world events
while downloading  pictures of Fergie eating a banana
what im a health nut okay.

Yeah I dont know who should go cover such a story right now hint.
Gonzo Baths and Ratich spoke like a tag team of terror hint!
Hey I should go shouldnt  I  ?

Yeah Gonz  ya think ?

With some ***** looks from the people who much like my family
wish id forget there names.
So they wouldnt have to join the witnness relocation program
i love it when they play hard to get.

Finally i was off the trusty Gonzo Report news van  waitting for me a bottle of wild turkey and some fine reading materials by that thinkers mag hustler waitting in the back.

There my amigos stood standing togather waving goodbye.
crying tears of joy hey is that a keg?
Chris on the turntables im beginnning to think it was a party.

But if Chris  was there just who was driving the Gonzo van!

The little dwarf laughed in glee as we flew threw town
like Charlie Sheen on a coke binge.
I was tossed around  like a beach ball at greatful dead concert
as finally   over the cliff the van flew.

There was a explosion that could be herd for at least a half a mile
course that was drowned out by the party.

The party was in full swing  finally Paula awoke.
Hey what the  hell happend and why is Trimman
******* my leg?

                                  
                                  Is Gonzo really Dead?  
    
    Will Jeremy Wyatt ever escape the *** dungeon of Taylor Swift.
                    
                        Will Richard Shepard ever put out a book
                        how kick lots of **** yet win the hearts of millions
                        and do a co write with lady GaGa and Mel Gibson?


                    Will Neva Flores  get ****** over her five second
                     mention hunt me down  and torture me for hours
                     im just saying  a girls got needs.


                    Will Paula Swanson  kick Trimman like a field goal
                                                    or just pass back out?

               Find out in the next action packed trillogy  called
                                          The Death Of Gonzo  

                       Untill  Next Time Stay Crazy Kids
Sorry for this long gonzo write my friends.
If i offend ya well if you dont wanna mention although this is done as a tribute  i understand  just let me know.

These are writes not poems but there ment to give ya a laugh
this isnt my most funny work  but hell one thing i'll never be i hope is boring  thanks for reading.

And if ya ever wonder if im this crazy in real life no way kids
im way worse cheers Gonzo
Emerald Apr 2013
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Give me dreams that will make me crawl
ones that hold all of  the night
one filled with delighten fright
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Give me your thoughts
Big or small
I want to dwell in dusted drawers
The ones that have been opened once, now no more
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Give me my lover whom stood by me so tall
Help me collect our ashes that flew
let us leave our rotten memories for the fresh morning dew
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Tell us your ways not to fall
Whisper the grooves on paths we must bend
Will our minds find galaxies we can comprehend?
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Can evil be a portrait for anyones hall
do we learn darkness by loosing the light
Or does it come from the lonesomes bitter fight?
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Oh my dreamer are you there at all?
Aaron LaLux Jul 2016
Heart Burst Anthology

Writing while my hands hurt,
in intermediate inspirational bursts,
writing till my hands break or my heart bursts,
never been a second placer so I’ll take whichever comes first,

until then I’ll author our collective anthology,

and offer no disrespected apologies,
for verse after verse after verse,
until I go from driving in this Benz,
to riding in that hearse,

no apologies,
from me for anything of course,
because I am just a writer,
that writes with no remorse,

why should I apologize when I am not a part of the courts,
I’ve never taken anyones freedom or filed any reports,
I’m not God so it’s not my job,
to decide the direction of another man’s course,

still it hurts,
because they offer no apologies for their crooked policies,
locking young men up behind bars,
for simply being born,
as if life itself is a crime,

all the while,
these boys in blue commit constitutional treason,
they’ve got quotas to fill and time to ****,
so they’re quick to lock a kid up without any real reason!

And the ironic thing is,
it’s all done on the tax payers dollar,
the same citizens that pay the court’s bills,
get locked up and charged fees that are increasingly higher.

Dear Sire,
when did we become serfs on our own turf,
slaves on our own streets,
since when is it a crime to want to feed your family,
trying to make ends meet just to make ends meat?

Everybody’s gotta eat.

so we slave all day and work all night,
something's not right I’m downtown feeling uptight,

suspecting there's a plot and it's sinister,
uneasy feeling queasy thinking everyone’s suspicious of me,
reflecting and feeling like a prisoner,
or at least a suspect of strangers assumptions what’s the remedy,

slavery isn’t dead,
nothing’s been abolished,
the clothes have just changed,
and now the chains are just more polished,

and all this,
makes me write compulsively,
so hopefully when I’m gone,
future generations can read our collective anthology,

written without any filters or apologies,
no disrespective apologies honestly we're making up words,
and adding words to proses similar to concrete and roses,
I told you before that everything is real and that is for sure.

Let me be known,

let it be known,

we are here,
we are struggling and we are human,
we deserve the basic human rights that all peoples deserve,
see it’s difficult to rest my case when the long arm of the law keeps pursuing,

what are we doing,
what does it matter,
what will be will be,
I just hope that we’ll be a factor,

as we're,

adding words to emotions,
that we write with undying devotion,
no need for promotion when you're one with the ocean,
of interwoven showmen golden women and unbound emotions,

the Soul,
has been awoken,
and in return for your token gesture,
I offer you this token poem,

it’s a labor of love,
so I write even when my hands hurt,
and I’ll keep writing till my hands break or my heart bursts,
‘cause I’ve never been a second placer so I’ll take whichever comes first…

– ∆  Aaron LA Lux ∆ –


Volume 1
The H Trilogy
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents child abuse and ****** assault.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
THT1 is #2 worldwide right now.
Thank you SO much!

https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328
M Jan 2013
Airports make me anxious.
There is too much going on, too many gates and times and delays and people.
They are ***** and crowded. They make me feel small and tiny, iridescent.
They are good for people-watching and spending too much on rather cheap food.
Airports make people obnoxious. People forget their manners as they scramble to the flight that they're already late for, bumping into me along the way with no apology offered.
Airports are huge, massive. Their size is daunting to me; I can so easily get lost and deviate from the path that leads me to the correct gate.
Airports are lonely. Nobody makes eye contact anymore with strangers, so I'll sit alone and read a book and maybe drink some tea or coffee, occasionally looking up to see if anyones looking at me.
Frankly, I do not enjoy airports. But I enjoy you.
So I will sit in an airport someday, sitting cross-legged and reading near a window. I will listen to some music and ponder whatever comes to mind until my flight arrives and it's time to board. I will board my plane, leaving behind the bothersome airport to come see you.
Hala K Jul 2015
She is a mystery,
A mystery that no one has been able to solve.

There is no telling what happens when her eyes distant itself from the world, looking and longing for something deep within her thoughts.

When her deadly silence creeps over her, leaving everyone far away from her wrath.

When she finds herself alone, blocking and pushing anyone trying to get in.

When she bottles up her emotions, leading everyone to think of something far away from what is genuinely happening.

When she strides past those who oppose her way, acting with no care in the world.

When she abruptly smiles that brightening smile of hers, and laughs that fascinating laugh, causing everyone to wonder what's going on behind her display.

When her style doesn't suite anyones, unique and different from the rest.

When she is understanding of anyones situation, curiosity spiking in everyone as to how she apprehends.

And when silence and stares occur every room she shows up in.

Everyone looks to her, baffled about this young creature.

Everyone asks her, yet no reply is answered.

She gives out the littlest emotions and information, yet only that tiny grain of salt intrigues and bewilders everyone.  

Everyone knows of her, they just do not know who she really is.

And as I said before...

She is a mystery,
A mystery that no one has been able to solve.
He says this is the last drink

The very last bottle he will drain

For now, all he wants is to think

While he has senses that still remain



But tomorrow will just bring another day

Where a lonely life will cause only pain

Only one thing can ever take the sorrow away

He will turn to the ****** bottle once again



He has lost it all, lost his very will

He is cursed by the demon drink to follow

He just picks a bottle up to once more swill

He just puts it to his lips and ready to swallow



His life seems to be one long  horror show

He  ends up being in another drunken daze

He can never stop while the urges continue to grow

He is always trapped in his very own alcohol craze



His wife and family left him so very long ago

But he never looks to find anyones' pity

For this is the life he has come to know

One more lost alcoholic, lost in the city





copyright Chris Smith 2004
sean rozario Feb 2010
In this chapter of life,
I decipher decisions with my knife,
resting under a tree,
staying out of the light,
i know i must stay alive,
resting my hand on the hilt of my sword,
standing for battle once more,
I lower my mask,
to show my evil core,
a wondering ronin bent on settling a score,

I fight for family,
and poverish,
and anyones who's suffered,
my katana will strike for you,
pride of the samurai,
fire falls from the sky,
let the gods cry tonight,
tonight, tonight,

Using my thumb,
I release my zanpakuto from its sheath,
I'm ready to strike at any time,
but first i think of the ones i love,
for if it wasn't for them,
I wouldn't be standing today,
glancing down to see the three skulls hanging from my waist, residing next to my knife,
the man whom taught me to fight,
the day he died,
he lied in my arms,
i love.....
never getting to say who,
might have been the first time my father cried,
the same king hath slain dad in my eye,
was the same man,
to burn my son alive,
only proceeding to **** and **** my wife,
she ceased to cry,
I never shed a tear,
just held their screaming heads for all to hear,
i started to walk,

I fight for family,
and poverish,
and anyones whos suffered,
my katana will strike for you,
pride of the samurai,
fire falls from the sky,
let the gods cry tonight,
tonight, tonight,

With every clinching strike,
I **** the demons underlings,
slicing and hacking,
I remember each and every soul,
I'll pray for them,
not to be ***** in hell,
standing before the demon king,
grabbing my sword I don't even need,
I could **** this man with one bare hand,
he'll cower in fear as my kin never did,
I cut him once across his chest,
splitting his cage of once were ribs,
his organs spill to the ground,
finger through the blood,
lower down to grab his heart,
palmed his head in my bare fist,
raising my sword to his neck,
you think this is pain?
try hell,
with that said,
I split his head from his neck,
tying his hair to my belt,
a fourth skull i must hold.
copyrigth 2010 s.Rozario
Lyra Brown Mar 2013
About a month ago I was waiting inside the lobby of a bank until the bus came. I was just standing there, innocently blaring Regina Spektor in my headphones to drown out my mind as I usually am, when this tall, *****-blonde, pretty handsome boy walked in.

“Hi.” He said, standing directly in front of me, looking straight into my eyes.

“Um… Hi.” I replied, and pulled out my headphones because I didn’t want to seem rude.

“You have really nice eyes. You’re really cute. How old are you?”

“….Twenty One. Why?” I couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh.

“Because you look so young! Can I see your ID?” He asked.

I laughed and laughed and laughed and didn’t know what to do other than laugh.

“You’re joking, right?” I said.

“No, let me see it. Please.”

I should have told him to ******* right then and there but instead I kept laughing and fumbled for my wallet, took out my ID and handed it to him.

“See. I’m not lying.” I said.

“Oh. That’s weird. You look so young. Like at most sixteen.”

“Okay.” I looked out the window and stared at the traffic. The bus should be here any minute. Get here. Get here. Get here. Somebody save me.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked, standing closer to me.

“Um… Nothing.” **** why did I say that why didn’t I just lie **** why won’t he just leave me alone this is so weird ugh why is he getting closer to me.

“Come for coffee with me.”

“HAHAHA! Why?” I laugh.

“Because. Just do it. Say you’ll do it.”

“Um… okay… Are you high or drunk or something?” I ask him.

“Nope. Just really tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Okay well this is just really weird. Like, you’re so confident and so sure of yourself. It’s weird. Not many people just walk up to someone and do this to a stranger.”

“Well I was just passing by and noticed your eyes and had to come talk to you.” He said.

Finally the bus came, we both got on, and he kept asking me questions.

I was trying to ignore how uncomfortable he was making me feel, how insane he was acting, how he was handsome but most definitely not even close to a gentleman, in fact he was the farthest thing from gentle I have ever encountered. He made me feel like an object, like an empty shell stranded on the shore that was waiting for someone, anyone to pick it up and call it beautiful. This was not okay.

But all I could do was laugh, because that’s what I do when I don’t know what to do.

“I know what kind of music you listen to just by looking at you.” He said.

“Oh, really? Guess.” I said and rolled my eyes. No he most certainly does not. Who EXACTLY does this guy think he is?

“Fleet Foxes, Joanna Newsom… You look like a hippy. A small, young, hipster.” He said.

“Well you’re wrong. Joanna Newsom is okay, but no.” I laughed some more and listed about 30 artists he’s only dreamed of listening to.

“Oh. That’s a lot of music. I’ve never heard of them.” He said.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He inched closer and closer to me until both of our shoulders were suddenly touching.

“Do you want to know who my favourite band is?” He asked.

“Who?” I said, not wanting to know at all but I was getting off the bus soon and didn’t want to end our conversation leaving the impression that I was a *****.

He leaned in close, and whispered into my ear -

“The Strokes.”

I immediately pulled away from him and laughed,

“Why did you have to whisper that?!?!”

“Because I like your mouth.” He said, smiling.

By this time, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, to be flattered or insulted, to slap him or kiss him. Basically I was torn between giving him what he wanted: someone to **** and chuck, or giving myself what I wanted: to get the **** away from him.

“This is my stop.” I said.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asked.

“Uh… Nothing.” I said.

“Wrong! You’re going for coffee with me!” He said.

I laughed and got off the bus.

                                                               ­           ———-

About a month later, (which would be probably a week ago, presently speaking), I ran into him on the bus AGAIN and we made eye contact but I chose to ignore him. He did not choose to ignore me, although I wish he did. He came up to the front of the bus, sat beside me and said,

“What’s your name again?”

“….Lyra.” I said.

“Hi, yeah, I thought it would be awkward if I didn’t come say hi.”

“Hi.” I said, and continued looking out the window.

“Hi.” He said.

There was a long pause of silence that satisfied me because I had turned into a porcupine the moment he sat beside me and I was hoping he could feel the sting of my quills lodging themselves into his face.

“I can go… If you want….” He said.

“Well then why don’t you?” I asked.

“You just seem interesting, I don’t know.”

“Well you don’t know me and I don’t know what you want from me but I have nothing to say or give you. So yeah, you should go.” I said.

He gave me an insulted look and went back to the back of the bus where he belonged.

We got off at the same stop which ******, but I didn’t look at or speak to him at all, even as we walked side by side to cross the street.  

I felt relieved, elated, guilty, surprised, empowered, safe, in control.

I felt like a ***** and I liked it.

And I learned a lot from that one small encounter. I learned that being a ***** takes me out of my comfort zone, because I care so much about what other people think of me, I am always trying to come across as “the cute little blonde girl who laughs a lot and is very sweet”. Because that’s easier than being “the self assured woman who doesn’t take anyones **** and sometimes comes across as a ***** who doesn’t give a **** because she only returns the respect she is shown.”

I learned that it doesn’t always have to be one or the other, it is also okay to be both of those girls simultaneously.

I learned that I like attention, but I also like respect. And he made me feel extremely disrespected. I learned that some boys only want a girl for their own personal pleasure. I learned that some boys will literally do and say anything to get pleasure. I learned that it’s okay to stand up for yourself, it’s okay to turn into a porcupine when you feel uncomfortable to get the other person to leave you alone, it is okay to USE YOUR QUILLS.

I thought of all the girls I know, including myself, who have let men use them to get what they want, just to feel beautiful for a fleeting moment. I thought of all the girls I know, including myself, who have been in or stayed in a toxic, abusive relationship just to avoid being lonely. I thought of how sad it is that so many of us hate ourselves that much to let ourselves be used just so we can feel something other than pain for one ******* minute. I thought of how easy it is for so many of us to abandon ourselves like that and how no matter how many times we tell ourselves it’s okay, IT IS NOT OKAY.

I felt sad, but I felt hopeful too.

Because we don’t need someone to tell us we’re cute or beautiful or interesting or **** or funny or talented or special to feel like a ******* human who is all of those things already. We are and always have been, all of those things, regardless of who we are kissing or ******* or loving or talking to at any given moment. It’s nice to be reminded sometimes, but it’s not nice to depend on someone to make us feel like that. We do not need to settle for anything less than someone who ******* respects us and treats us how we ******* ought to be treated.

Most of all, I felt proud of myself.

And I feel like the Spice Girls or P!nk or Alanis Morisette would have been proud of me, too.
Should I hang with my friend who I haven't seen in a year or go meet this tinder girl?
Someone New - Hozier

I just can't put my finger on it.
something about her is goregous.
Baby Got Back - Jonathon Coulton

You're right. It's totally her ***.
Ugly Faces - Watsky

Shh, spotify, be nice. It's not her fault.
Do Better - Say Anything

Okay okay, you're right. I'll bring her home.
All Time Low - Jon Bellion

Oh c'mon, She's not that bad...
Proove Me Wrong - Dub FX

Well like... her personality is pretty cute.
Some Girls Are Crazy - Echo Movement

I can't beleive I just had *** in my backseat.
Glad You Came - The Wanted

Yikes. All the girls dropped from this party. it's just gonna be me and my three dude friends.
To Many ***** On The Dancefloor - Flight Of The Concords

I completely agree. Should i go or just come up with a ****** excuse to leave?
You Don't Have To Be A ******* - Flight Of The Concords

You're right i'll leave. What should i tell them?
Working - I Fight Dragons

No i already told them i got the day off. That wouldn't work.
My Buddy's Back - Big D and The Kids Table

Oh perfect!
Sleepyhead - Passion Pit

Yeah I should go to bed.
Let me finish this poem first.
Go To Bed - Ookla The Mok

I'm stuck on this line.
What's a good word to describe Port Veritas? Like... one word?
Home - Phillip Phillips.

That's adorable... you're so right.
See You Again - Wiz Kahlifa

******* spotify that was super uncalled for. Now i'm bummed out.
Get Over It - Ok Go

Dude. That's like super insensitive
Ungrateful - Streetlight Manifesto

No i'm not ungrateful. I love you, you just don't need to make me cry when i'm down in the dumps like that.
Lean Into The Fall - Mona

I guess you're right. Fine. Thank you.
All The Stars In Texas - Ludo

That's the nicest thing that anyones ever said to me. I like when you do that.
Like or Like Like - Miniature Tigers

Uhh, i guess like like. You're pretty much my favorite app.
R U Mine? - Arctic Monleys.

I think maybe you're moving a little fast spotify... i don't think I'm ready for that kind of commitment.
I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

This is getting weird. I'm going to bed.
I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab For Cutie

Okay no, seriously i'm turning you off.
*Don't Unplug Me - All Caps.
Breanna Smith Jul 2018
I hear my children
I listen
I care
Why won't you listen when I cry?
Why won't you listen?
Do you feel the ground moving?
Can you not hear me?
Can you not feel the vibrations?
Where are you all going to go when winter comes and the cold harsh reality of not having a dwelling settles in?

Who will you ask for help from then?
Will they listen?
Will they care?
Will they let you close
To their fire
Or will you freeze?

Alone,
With no one
No one to care about what war you fought
What you have done to save them
How hard you work at home
How you suffer in silence
Because you can't fly your flag!?
If you could just be you and stand up again! Be the soldier at home
To protect those you love and care about!
Be color blind!
Be deaf to the vile words!
Watch the theft and stop it
With kindness
Before it escalates!
Know that everyone has hard choices
To make to keep their kin alive!

But because you are mean
With your harsh words
You must be fighting somewhere...right?
Are you ready to fight at home?
Let me tell you
BLACK and BLUE does not need to be anyones skin color of the day!
Those colors do not look good on
Any family membor or friend!

Vile words hurt worse
They cut a person down
They replay in our heads
Until we go crazy!
At times that we need strength
Those emotional scars never leave us...
They take up space
In our heads and
Our hearts and even in our souls
They turn us into mean people
Who hurt others
Broken people have sharp edges
Handled improperly
Leaves nothing but
Hurt

Continuing to hurt each other is not the answer anyone is looking for
Maybe it used to be
We can not continue
Not anymore!
Not in 2017
Not now in 2018
Not later
No
Never
Ever
Again!
We need to
STOP!
Stop fighting each other

Start making our world
A great place to live in
Again!
Not just everyone out for themselves!
Our Mother Earth loves us
That is why we have the privilege
Of being alive on THIS PLANET!
Just keep that in mind next time you want to hurt someone else
The pen can be mightier then the sward but it still comes at a price
What are YOU willing to pay?
Will it be your family
Or your friends
Or how about
Your life?
Are the prices we pay too high?
Yes.
So be kind!
Put yourself
In their shoes
Even if
Just
For
A day!
Keith W Fletcher Jan 2016
All the blood was gone
As I had stood here ..knees locked
For no telling how long..
... About 40 years since  I had walked
Through the blanket on the doorway hung
That turned out to be a time machine portal
And here I thought it was just to help hold in heat
Silly me . RECOGNIZE . GOD  just touched a mortal
Just before entering here I was asking myself why
Why why why to a question I knew I hadn't a clue
AND NEVER WOULD! . So..why did I keep asking .?
I even knew That I knew
As I rushed down the hall and up the stairs
Across the landing and down the long cold hall
The redundancy of "WHY DID YOU DO THAT..WHY?"
All the way to that blanket and then into the warmth
As I stepped in and all the way back ....40 years.

I wasn't aware until suddenly I was standing there
Knowing I just got back but unaware that I had been gone
And in surrealistic repose was my half closed flip phone
Draped over my open left palm like a sea sick sailor
On unsteady legs asleep below the knees
I managed the  two steps distance -to my easy chair
Where I found the right levers to slowly ease
My cold, stiff and diminished mortal core
Down to where I might be able to gather myself
That was scattered all about
But first I had to close the flip phone
       That I had opened back in early September 1974

The television was playing right in front of me
But I never heard nor did I see
The fireplace was waining ----it's heat replaced by cold
I dragged a blanket over myself which I didn't even unfold
The day that existed outside the window
Scurried off
Stealing away with the light
As if it were checking to see if I'd even notice
How quickly the hands of the clock
Had painted in the night
I never even noticed --really .. I wasn't even there

I was sitting in my car in the grocery store parking lot
Watching strangers roll by as they cruised the strip
In a small town where I now lived for maybe two weeks
I was 17 a  longhaired city boy but if I was on anyones radar
     So far.... I hadn't made a single blip
One night as I sat  there
  A faded camaro
That had to be the ugliest green I ever seen
Rolled in to park behind my car
Quickly flanked by two more -
One at each door
I could see them in the mirror
I could hear the raucous laughter
This was what I had been sitting here for
What was missing that I was after
But .... I was as shy as I could be back then
Not the kind who could get out and just push right in
And then ......serendipity walked in
A cop car rolled past on the strip
And the wildhaired guy in the camaro just let it rip
Beep beep BEEEEEEEEEEP BEBEBEBEBEEEEP
WENT his horn and the cop whirled to turn in
Lost in the shadow of the grocery store he parked
As he emerged from the shadows I saw 5 ft 8 250 lbs.
And believe me now as  I give you my word
He demanded to know who was honking
Standing there 15 ft away
"I was piggy " yelled the guy in the camaro
I could not believe what I just heard ........or what I heard next
" Well cut it out Don" and into the shadow he disappeared
Then the camaro said "Beep!"
O. M. G   this guys going to jail.
The cop and him argued
The other guys split
I got out to watch from the trunk where I decided to sit
Before he went to the cop car
Cigarette in his lips
Encased in the most amazing grin he asked me
"Hey man ...you got a match?"
I didn't and said I was sorry and they disappeared in shadow
Oh well I thought as I sat watching them get in the car
Illumination of dashlights allowed a set of silhouettes
And I could tell --what the hell-
He was actually lighting up with the dash lighter
Then  he replaced it and in straightening back up
He dragged his fingers across every switch he could manage
And the shadows came alive
With flashing lights, bells and whistles
The cop went spastic shutting it down --2 minutes went by
Then the door opened and out stepped the guy
The car drove away as the wildhaired maniac
Walked over to me fiollowing the lit cigarette and that crazy grin
"That was pretty funny wasn't it dude?"  I probably agreed
That grin was infectious as we talked a bit  
I'm keith _ I'm Don
Then he said "Hey !  You got a joint"
"No I don't "I had to reluctantly admit" And the grin sorta drooped
"But I think I know where we can get one"
From that point on and forever no matter how far apart we were
This guy Don became my best and  truly thick and thin friend
In that 4 month span
I met another person in that town who changed my life
His name was Tom and he was 82 yr old and totally blind
In fact he had gotten his eyes kicked out by a mule at 17
He wore no dark glasses just open holes in his head  
But he was so cool that I just didn't mind
He would drop into the upholstery shop owned by my older brother
And tell whopping tales of one kind or another
About hunting alone and bringing back game
Roofing his house at night because it was cooler
Able to tell color by just a touch but I didn't ever mind
I came to love the spirit that dwelled in that old man
My brother built him a loom in the back to Tom specifications
And he wove shawls on it from skeins of different colored yarn
Then other towns people dropping in would see old Tom
And tell the same stories he told and it wasn't long
For my sister -in- law, my brother and especially me
TO REALIZE
That any doubts we had about him
were absolutely wrong
THEN
He walked in and ran his hand over a large red velvet couch
Saying oh ain't that a pretty red I stayed silent my brother said
" Now Tom . you've heard us talking about this couch color"
Not mad but in a weary kinda way Tom said " No! I can tell"
So I had to know ...had to . I got two velvet scraps 1gold 1aqua
Here what color as he took the gold -quick feel "thats yeller
   What the......!
Before handing him the aqua I detemined I would lie whatever
He took the piece ..felt for a few seconds and hesitantly said blue
"Nope" I said but !....then Tom felt some more and more and said
"    weeeeeeel its green " his hesitancy and 2 color choices had me freaked
But I said "nope"  and that old man
Right then ....changed my life
From that second to now he effects every fiber of my being
He threw his open holed  black orbless socket to within an inch
  An inch of mine--- square on -- so quick I was stunned
..........An absolute quote here.........
  " WELL its blue green then durn it"  for me this was an epiphony
Don't doubt people so quick  Don't let anything stop you from believing  it can be possible  Always accept that it can be amazing And try to pass this hope on
So I've always tried
    The crazy guy in the ugly green camaro became my friend
We became collaborators with his amazing ear and guitar skills
Over the years he had many vehicles almost always ugly green
So That morning of December 23rd  2012
A bitter wind blowing from the north at about 25 mph and 10 ° f
I Went from the little room I was hibernating in
The only heated room in the old house
It was upstairs facing the dirt road
I had hung a string of Christmas lights inside that north facing view
In hopes of cheering me up after a REALLY bad year of loss
Divorce, bitter battle and more trouble and pain than I like to recall
So when I got up and went out that blanket hung to keep in heat
Took the dogs down the long cold hall down the cold stairwell
And all the way to the mud room wishing I had gotten dressed
I was in flimsy pajamas and floppy houseshoes
At least grabbed a jacket especially once I opened the door
I started out before I felt that wind so I let the dogs have it
I would wait inside the door and as I stood there I saw a bag
A white garbage bag with a bit of green wreath sticking out
I had had it for years never hung it
Probably saw it every time I  entered
So thats where the unanswerable question started
I do not know why
I dug up a hammer a few nails went out the door
I don't know why
Walked a hundred feet out to a field
Got my freezing ice - coated aluminium extension ladder
And carried it back to the house
I DONT KNOW WHY
I don't know why I didn't give up when it took so long
To get the dam thing to separate
Or when ...
I smashed my frozen fingers in the process
But I climbed 14 feet in the air on that north wall
I drove a nail above the window
And I hung that
Red holly berry  adorned
Green plastic wreath
Climbed down and took the ladder back  (really)
And then me and the dogs headed up to the warmth
With me asking maybe even out loud " why why why why"
All the way into the room  
And as I passed through the curtain
At 10:00 That Sunday morning  I saw the flip phone flashing
I had missed a call from Don  gonna wish me an early
Merry Christmas
So I'm sure I was smiling as I hit redial
It was his girlfriend Tammy
Hey Tammy how are you
She said "Don just died in the hospital 5 minutes ago"

The room was cold as the late shadows of a winter day
Were muting the view through the window
As I closed up the flip phone on 1974
And managed to sit down  

Late that night as I still sat there
I had a fire going now
I had managed to eat
And I was thinking of past times
The time he drove down to Texas to get married
He came back and I asked  How you like Texas
And he replied "it ****** man . I can't drive down there"
Why ?
"Cause man they got stop lights running sideways
- not up and down so I couldn't tell what to do.

Then I knew without a single doubt
WHY ?
And I did get an answer to the question after all
And just like the old man Tom and the red and green
Because any doubt I've ever had Ever Ever Ever had
About God and heaven or any version of something more...?
Evaporated forever
Don drove ugly green cars because he was colorblind
He couldn't see red and green in the "normal"sense
And that green he said was the PRETTIEST RED HE EVER SEEN"
So on his way by he stopped in with that stupid infectuos grin
And shielded me from the wind
While that sum b made me hang that dang wreath
And changed my life one more time.
      
       I love you dude and you too Tom  (Hey Tom .   is this what you imagined I looked like?)
Allison Oct 2013
Sometimes I lay in bed and think "what would life be like if I wasn't born?"
I know that's a silly question and stupid to think but have I changed anyone's life by being alive?
Am I anyones reason to wake up in the morning?
Did I influence someone's life by just being there for them or a simple talk did I help them?
I feel like I'm not important enough to anyone to answer these questions.
If I wasn't born would anything be different? I don't think so.
The sun still turns the birds still sing the people that have crossed my life would still be here doing what they do.
I haven't gone out of my way to chance a human beings life.
I don't feel the need to be here cause no one would gave a ****.
I don't have a million people loving and counting on me to be something great.
I don't have a lover I can turn to and tell all my secrets with.
I don't have anybody.
Sad to say that if I was never born life, wouldn't be much different.
Cada ves que olvido algo, malos momentos espero aveses veo sufrimiento pero aun sonriendo camino simplemente donde creare arte, verdades del sabio ancestro, sostengo objetos de luz, piedras, aire, agua, fuego el comienso termino aun siguiendo busco y siempre mi familia encuentro, ciego dibujo mi sueno en este infierno, nuestra ilusion, o solo sera mia por ejemplo una flor destruida todavia deja semillas, logicamente crecen, vida buena amenese, miro sonrisas, y ala mejor descanse, formaremos nuestros trece cielos, eterno sagrado, canto hablando destrulle mucha gente, ignorandolos cuando escucho, de todos modos muertos, montanas a pedasos, siguen moviendo con su voz el cranio, artistico, hueso presioso enterrado, revolusionarios levanto porque llo no se tampoco dar pas devolviendo todo injusto dolor obvio eso contesto si preguntan que ara uno al morir? Luego enseΠo sacrificio aprendido claramente diario visto utilizo arte para imortalisarlo bien aqui, memoria espiritual, esta illusion, vision, dream when singing, weird things I hear my mind say at night or day there's never been a need to pray I'm still unawake people judge any without what they not see around them forgive them one person says dying, laughing, brings better moments, days resting, peace I show with images that are unexplainable unless you know how artisticly these hands form stars, moons hold inside caves or wumb thrones ancient sacred rhythms respected are measurements, life, death, blind carved stone from, dreaming where children new born adorn earth nature womens tears paint every reason I won't ever hesitate to die protecting kind presence, why how take a life? It becomes easier if your enemies get lost near whoevers truly innocent, hardworker souls native soldiers, word, speech, heart, body envokes things Ive called mine speak in code all words with rhymes shine similar to diamonds, gold, even people fight many times give their lives for
After being told it's worth more shown useless teachings televisions living divided by races if all nations portray mostly poverty forgotten ninety percent population, destroys hells when few coward thoughts wanna smile watching kids crying poor creation, nest, room, natures unhappy house, only door found grows into hates reflection mirror smoke portrays fear, war, when death ends your home own selfcreated nightmares daydreaming seems what most call god forgets a lot of things though brothers or your elders won't ignore anyones pain wise youth learns truth well tought proof seek only family during struggles sustains hallusinacions very stable mindstates worldwide, waiting frontline prepared always, patiently.....
nivek May 2014
again you drag me out the depth of forever
to sing a song of light
to all who are left standing and those who are not

I try to hear what hearts are saying
birds in flight
all  committed to one or another

love of gold and silver power lust and fight
Innocence and Sainthood
Way down on anyones mind
Kimani Jones May 2011
For the past few days, my friend has been sick.
He hasn't been able to eat or drink without anything staying down.
It's gotten worse.
He's been stuck in the bed.
He was asked if he wanted to go to the hospital,
and he said no.
I feel like if I would have known,
He would be alive.
It could have only taken one conversation to change his mind,
Now he's dead,
and I want to go with him.
My friend Chloe sent me that in a text message.
She's going through depression.
She blames herself for her best friends death,
Because she couldn't get in contact with him.
She hasn't been at school for 4 days.
She's not answering anyones phone calls,
So I text her:
Chloe,
Now i'm in your shoes.
Your'e my best friend.
Don't slay your soul because a part of your life has disappeared,
I still need you,
Like you needed him.
Even though he is no longer here,
I can be your comfort zone.
This feeling should not choke hold your final decision,
Visions of your grave should not flash before your eyes,
Your'e only 17 and your epitaph should not be created yet.
Don't cut your life-line because his phone line is disconnected,
I'll be at the other end.
Instead of popping pills, lets pop conversations everyday,
I'll be your anti-depressant.
Life is too short for you to cut your life short because your best friend is dead.
I walked in your shoes,
Now it's time for you to do the same for me.
Tighten the laces,
and see how it feels when your best friend tells you she wants to die.
Chloe,
I was able to have this conversation with you.
I pray that it changes your mind because,
Losing a best friend,
Over losing a best friend,
Isn't worth it.
Janessa Luna Jan 2014
Body against my aching bones.
Breath I've waited so long to feel whispering down my neck sweetly.
Stuck scents
Warm lips, heavy hands.
Under nights sheets I forget everything.
I forget how badly i was breaking
I forgot how long you knew My heart ached for you
I forgot how much i knew down inside that you would take anyones love besides from mine.
I forgot
because
I need you.
Sweet lady, dripping in life
If you only knew
Through the cold nights, alone
I think of you, filling me up to the brink.
I hear your body and melt to nothing
Love!
The word so often used but never knowing fully
Dying
You don't know, nor understand.
That without you here, i can barely breathe.
After seeing your face today
dark
pale
You granted me no smile
No laughter
Even your pitiful Awes hurt.
My poems, my music
Everything sounds so stupid now.
Pointless.
Empty.
Because all i keep hearing is your voice
All i keep thinking about
Long conversations
Wrapping your arms around me every day.
I need that again.
I can wait longer.
I feel almost crazy.
Being this way.
I know what it is.
The love throbbing through me.
How dumb are you?
Still not seeing that i love you so **** much that i could cry for hours and still not get everything out.
Perfect to others, but to you.
Nothing.
Nothing but a common friend.
I fret thinking what I'm doing wrong.
What I'm not doing right.
Then sit emotionless, wondering why Someone
Someone who has never even had an inch of love for me in this world filled of billions
Someone who will possibly never feel the same for me
Someone who sees me as just.
As just another person just passing through.
I could care about
love
adore
need being there.
They say the first one hurts.
Then i think back to that night.
You still felt nothing.
I feel pathetic.
I feel stupid.
I feel so much.
I dont even know what to do, or say to you.
You act like you just want me to leave.
So hard explaining to you that i can't
so i write stupid horrible poems about love.
"Love"
What is love?
Something red?
Blue?
Love is everything
every piece
every smile
every hug
every song
Love is you.
This is not my usual work. Whatever that is. It was more of a rant than one of my poems. But what is a "right poem"? A rant about my first love. Love is a very Stressed word now. But only few truly know the meaning. Only few can, have, will experience. Love is a very strong word to me, that i use often. Only since now i truly feel it for someone, even if the person doesn't feel the same. Excuse my ranting. Enjoy love...and pain.
Infamous one Dec 2013
I tend to dwell I thought I did everything right turns out things are beyond my control. Im not into the party life or use ppl id rather be doing my own thing.
I dont need anyones approval im doing what makes me happy and matters most. Ive always been a nerd judged for being different. Ive come a long way from where I was.
I use to be alchy but now I wont touch it. Even though temptation is everywhere. I had so many drinking buddies I had to find a new crowd. Dating is fun but kind of would like to settle down.
Bouncing back from injuries my biggest problem is time since I dont make time for things. Im learning to balance everything out
Lupo De Inimicus Jul 2013
so sweet and so dark
so dark, the flesh of hers so sweet
as dark and deep as the roots of the tree
which bear the nectarine

eyes that may possess
Lucifer and her demons
to come out and dance
'round the campfire
to the rhythms
of her fiery Soul's burning caress

yet so ****** her beauty is to those who yearn
as she does not tempt those who love to burn
only stand there, before them
and simply say hello
from the depths below
where her infinite fires bellow
where she wields a boundless yell
in her eternal conquering of Hell

her beauty could never be expressed by me
and anyone who dared would die, surely
within the attempt itself, in a waste of breath
vain they are, misplacing their pride in her beauty-
'til death

shadows of her dancing through the woods
run through my dreams and compell me to die
I can feel her aching within me as I fall in love
with the way she moves as she dances, oh I'd die
oh I'd die-

as she dances as if there is no one around
as if, she aches for anyones presence
as if she'd only seen their faces, act as masks
hiding their souls from this Earths greatest distances
and so-
she is a ghost
and so-
I die, if only to fly
flip a coin
pull a rose pedal
***** my finger
give birth to metal
rise up from the ground
and raise Hell
just to have
a great story to tell
so she may sleep
a little softer
in the breath of Soul
I have to offer

so, you see
she is too beautiful for me


the beat of the drum
will never cease to come
it will drum
it will come
it will drum
it will come

oh I will drum
and she will come

so you see
she is too beautiful for me

for someone needs to beat on that drum
someone needs to beat on that God ****** drum

and this rhythm, may as well be my own heartbeat
for I would die to continue watching her dancing feet
hannah andersen Apr 2016
it’s like my body is a roller coaster
there
for anyones pleasure
what goes up
must come down
so enter me without any thought
until the ride is over and you can walk
away
power and strength all in your possession
and i am left with
nothing

because who wants to thank me
for the acceleration
the quickening of breath
the energy
the never ending rush of excitement

who wants to spend a few extra minutes on this roller coaster
smiling
with thankful eyes
maybe returning the favor?
oiling my gears and making me
sigh with pleasure
rather than
squeaking with pain?

but that is to much to ask

once you’ve reached the end,
and what was once up is now down,
and your heart is slowing its pace

you can go find another ride
another roller coaster
that will take you for a few spins
for a few minutes of satisfaction
until it is over and you’re tired

and i’m tired

but who cares
because the next ride starts now
and what goes up
must come down
The road behind still seemed more tempting  than the wasteland of hollow thoughts and
empty dreams that lay outside my hotel room window.
I'd long since given up on having anything known as a comfort zone.

Still although it was hours since we landed still my thoughts rambled like some child as he sits listening to a trains whistle on a long dark night.

My fellow shadows had long since learned a private room was better than a front row seat to
my often insanity spun sideshow of late nights and bitter rants.
It was me and my thoughts a plague of my own creation  in full swing and obsecure few
a stiff drink and some good pills kept the thoughts at bay for the moment.

We found areselves in the city of Angels but  it reaked more of devils torment and wicked excess.
Hookers cheap *** and some overpriced drugs.
The blood of dreams covered the streets and old starts of the fames lure slept next to the broken and homeless.

Why had I ever came here was it ego?
Or just a good time to flaunt in the face of all thoose caught in the gears of
the day to day grind.

This land of empty thoughts  and cursed remakes there was nothing creative bout this scene kids  just give your neck to the vampire and pray he yerns for a taste.
Maybe you'll be one in the few or just another hideline.
Fallen star found dead outside some overpriced nightclub.

Me I was here for a gig and nothing more .
To provide some laughs between drinks i had no illusions of fame.
To me I looked in the crystal ball and just saw another cheap snow globe
of nothing more than candy coated lies.

This wasnt my scene it wasnt anyones scene just a playground gone
wrong a wasteland of bad ideas and hollow thoughts.
That made Vegas seem like a good idea at the time.

Neon lights and lost thoughts haunt the hours spent like some
silent witness to a future crime scene and a redlight work of art.

And as I recalled the nights show I tried to forget the faces from behind the lights
that seemed broken by some plastic surgeons *******.
Give me women with flaws and unsculpted fools.
Perfect people can have this place that seemed more like a gateway to
a delusion cast hell than screen print paradise.

Course many would paint it diffrent if they held the brush but I wasnt
much of a painter to begin with.
And as tommorow loomed with the smog I packed my suitcase thinking.
If we could just drown half the suits and give it to the miscast freaks
pretending to be superheros for tourist pics what a ****** up
theme park we'd have then.

A few hits and alotta drinks later we were gone and there was no question
If we had left a empression.
Only a ****** of a much higher degree would wanna leave anything there.
Except maybe a pipe bomb in a suits office bleeding some old franchise
for every drop it was worth.

No my friends the rearview wasnt looked in often.
What did you think of it?
My fellow traveler  asked as we counted potholes and passed the bottle

Well it sure wasnt Kansas my friend.
What the ***** in Kansas?
Anything but this ******* place amigo.
Ellie Shelley Jan 2016
Don’t become infatuated
Don’t fall in love
Especially not with poets
Because they only ever exist in their words
They will write you love poems, and lengthy paragraphs
With words said in ways you have never heard before
You will fall in love, with love poems, the way they say their vowels, and the look in their eyes when they read to you  
They will lull you to sleep with sticky sweet words
And they will speak of the colour yellow, in a new light
A new meaning will come to its definition
And it will slowly become your favorite colour
You will wear yellow dresses, and put daisies in every room  
You will see the speckles of yellow in their brown eyes
But you will find them at three in the morning sitting in the bath tub, bathing in the words of metaphors
You will find them having an affair with Stanzas and Verses at the same time, sleeping with sonnets
You will see that poetry was always their mistress
At night they will no longer share blankets with you, but they will wrap themselves in ballads and couplets
You will only be able to express this new distance with eulogies
You will start seeing yellow everywhere
In the beds of your nails, and them hems of your skirts
Till you start seeing it so often that you will want to puke up every word they have ever said to you
You will realize that talk is cheap and Rhymes are easy
You will realize that poets only ever exist in their words

Wait I.. I take that back
Fall in love with oddly pronounced vowels, love poems, lengthy paragraphs, and sparking eyes
Wear yellow dresses again
Pick a bouquet of daisies
Fall in love with 2 a.m. again
But not with just anyones 2 a.m.
Fall in love with yours
Get swept up in the arms of personification
Drink sticky sweet words, get drunk off yourself
Have a love affair with stanzas
Kiss verses on the lip
Wrap up your wounded parts with haikus
Become infatuated with metaphors
Whisper sweet nothings to yourself
Fill your nights with praise poems
And love songs
Tear up every eulogy you have ever written
Knit yourself a blanket from all the unfinished poems, all your couplets
Sing ballads to yourself
And write sonnets in the moonlight
Fall in love with rich words and complex rhymes
Don’t worry about falling out of love this time
This is two combined poems, the first one is one I've already put on here. I'm using this for an audition to try to get on my schools poetry team. LTAB (Louder Than A Bomb)
Martin Narrod Aug 2015
Luke warm bath verse. Can your fingers live on my thumb peninsula forever I hope. You groom me and I'll dump the water over your head. Sit in front of me, I like the way it feels when it pokes your back awkwardly. It's weird to me, only your toes wrinkle. I can be the hot towel and kisses on your eyelids. The morphine calls my veins, while you don't call my name. Ours was unlike anyones. It still is to me and the trailing cries of women who I tried to **** my heart out of your hands. Like shucking emptiness from already emptied containers. I'm living for the day I feel your hands on my face again. Again.
Emma Amme Oct 2013
Her name was Mave.  
She had gorgeous long red hair
and green like apples eyes.
She liked to collect circular rocks
because they gave her luck.
She was terrified of driving
because just the idea of trusting others
with giant metal machines going at 70 mph
made her head hurt.
She loved freckles because she said
that they looked like little hearts on peoples faces.
She hated pumpkins and carrots. First of all because
they were orange just like her hair, and she liked to think
that the color was special and not given to things as mundane as a food.
Second of all, shed like to believe that shed be caught dead
before she ever asked for anything pumpkin flavored and conform to the 'white girl'.
and carrots just tasted funny.
She was inconsistent, and while some said it kept them on their toes
the truth is, all it did was keep them wrapped around her finger.
She was careless and didn't think much before she acted.
It could be seen as spontaneous, but actually it was just hurtful.
She loved the winter, because her cheeks matched her hair
and she stood out against the pure white snow.
She loved summer as well because she didn't need to be held
to anyones expectations and she could simply disappear.
She was an all or nothing type girl. Its why she either summer
or its polar opposite winter.
Its why she wanted to either be your lover
or be a stranger.
hey maybe i can make Mave a character for stories i never finish
Em Feb 2016
My soul has been sad for far too long.
I want to be joyful again.
I want the still, small, quiet moments to not be filled with anyones memory.

My soul aches and my body is tired.

I wish I never learned the truth about you, at least then I could go to sleep with the perfect image I had of you in my head.
But you distorted it.
My eyes were opened.
I was forced to see the truth.
It wasn't because of what you thought was best for me.
It wasn't romantic, selfless, valiant, or brave.
It was selfish, narcissistic, egotistical, lustful and painful.
Nothing will change that.

But I'm a lover.
I don't love many,
but the ones I do,
I always will.

I love deeply, courageously, boldly, widely, and freely.

I just need to let go of your memory,
so that my soul can be happy again.
Written 2.6.16
Holly Lipovits Jul 2013
I am not a prize to be wanted
I am not a prize to be worn
I am not a sacrifice to be sentenced
I am not anyones reward

If you can take a peek at a close spot
And listen to what you are saying
Sure take a thought about it and let me see
This is a reality and a secondhand degree

All you may see is a pretty painted picture
But all that you have seen is a piece of the easel
A picture you've noticed is worth a thousand words
But one is clearly all to be

I may be all fresh and melted
To what you may agree to disagree
But from many assumptions
There is just never an ending sleeve

Look at you and glance down upon yourself
What may you want with me?
I am not a piece to be yours
It can be sheltered upon and shattered
But all that is there is despair
For what may become of you and all whose laddered

So all I am saying it don't get too close
Nor ever take a piece of my heart
Don't try to get all comfy due to all you can 'see'
You know I am in love
But all there isn't always me

I am not a prize to be wanted
I am not a prize to be worn
I am not a sacrifice to be sentenced
I am not anyones reward
You're beautifully unique,
No need to envy anyones physique,
Afterall beauty isn't  specific.
It varies,if not;the world would be boring hence pathetic!
Someone somewhere finds you perfect,flawless
So don't stress.
For everyone ;)
Karijinbba Aug 2021
~Shawn -vs- Rd~
~
I AM just
an ancient lover Rd
I AM just an infinity loop
dreaming childlike
of you and me mature and free.
Anyones Gold key who can
turn and open my heart's golden lock
to rock my world, pierce my entrails
with his Angels's longest speer,
as the Angel messanger of God
did for Teresa, igniting into her
ecstasy and bliss across time
and space a saint lover
in disguise,
owns my heart, my bridal
chambers my good fortune spin
and two gold infinity loops.
~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
71-74-95-21.
https://youtu.be/7NV0pnDtwHM
Faan Oct 2017
Your opinions doesn't matter, no matter the argument,
you could be right, you could be wrong, but we don't really care.
you're but one person out of the many, and your voice cannot be heard.
You are not a politition, nor a lawyer, nor in the government,
you can fight and rally all you wish,  but you'll always end up in disappointment.
because your opinions doesn't matter.
You are not some prodigy that can rally a whole nation behind his back,
nor are you some great speechman that can touch another's heart.
You are but a common man, speaking out his own thought,
entertaining your own imagination, fighting other people,
debating over things you can't change, but anger you have brought.
but in the end that thought no one actually cares,
your opinions doesn't matter.
The world is not fully black or white, so why are you the judge?
is it prejudice, or sympathy, no ones really interested.
no matter how compiling your argument, there'll always be something you're missing,
there'll always be contradictions within your words, and someone will always find it.
but in the end it doesn't matter,
because your opinions doesn't matter.
But nor does mine, nor anyones, we're all just pieces of pawns,
controlled by the government, society, and big corporations.
it's best to  sit back, enjoy your life, and sip a cup of water,
block out anything that does not concern you,
and live a happy life.
inside your happy little bubble, you'll always be the king,
because no one's opinion ever matters.
dafne Dec 2013
I'm not beautiful
I'm not bright
I'm not talented
Or precious in anyones sight

I'm plain
With brown eyes
And brown hair
And average everything

No I don't want you to pity me
I don't even want to pity myself

I'll never amount to anyones dream
I'll never be enough
And I'll usually be ignored

I have to cope with what I have
And who I am
Because I can't wait for someone
To change me
And pick me up
And make me feel significant
Because there will be a desperation
To tough to handle
Like an alcoholic
Waiting for their next drink
And cigarette smoker
Waiting for their break
To smoke another.

And they will never
Get their drink
Or get their cigar
And they'll die
Of weariness
Like I die
Waiting for
**you
I don't even know who "you" is yet
Who are "you"?
Athenascurse Oct 2016
All I ask for is to connect.
Is that so hard to get?
I'm not keeping people away.
Its not all up to me to give and earn respect.
I'm not intending anyone to take care of me.
Just to be embraced.

I long for a soul pleading for mine.
To take my breath away.
I'm not out to be anything else.
Just myself.
I'm tired of only being useful.
And a simple mistake.
Regret.

You know what it's like to watch time tick away?
As you reach out and find others. A moment.
That lasts only a day.
It's a double edged sword.
Yet feels like I'm walking into the grey.

I spent so many years trying to just survive.
We all go through these moments in our lives.
Where we realize we were the fool.
But we are no less a person for what we went through.
To protect the ones we love. To stop the drowning pool.

Doesn't mean I'm stupid.
Or intend to repeat.
I've repaired that part of my spirit.
The place that hid safely for me.

So when it was time to awaken.
And see what I had done.
I yelled "REDEMPTION!"
I pushed and pulled all the pieces
torn apart together again. I am forsaken.
Fell apart for another scar,
another intention.

For an uncertain future
That I will find.
I get a taste. A small amount of time.
And always in the back of my mind.
I see that it will be gone. A short lived
Ecstacy. A moment in my life's prime.
If no one will persist. Or really try.
I'll never crawl from this crimson wine.
Drunk on ignorant bliss.

I feel a knife plunged deep inside.

No one made me change my path.
That was all me.

So please take that knife.
Be over with it please.

I cannot sit idling by.
Waiting for what others
Decide.

I want to be close.
But sense that im just waiting.
Wanted and hoping.
So I give into my pride.
To taste what is inevitably the relentless tide.

The blood rain.
Extinguished the flame inside.

I spin and spin in circles.
Fighting tooth and nail on
This journey.
Only balancing on a half pipe.

I've known pain. Deeper than this.

Outside hovering.

Is the "DEMON,"
I keep within.

Can't expect **** from ppl.
Can't find the truth.
If you want ME!
Say the word.
I'm not gonna mess around.
Or settle for what is best for me.

And then be forgotten in a whim.
Takes two to tango they say?
Takes your heart to touch anothers.
Don't wait to long.
You cannot hide from decay.

The soul can become grim. Broken,
And full of dismay.

Look folks.
Life's a *****.
But we all wanna think we are okay.
Keep that arm out. So no one gets in.
Eventually, like a psychic.
You are forced to read their minds.

So here it is. My blunt sword.
Go ahead. Plunge it within.
I'll praise you for stepping through
The door.

I WILL NOT be anyones regret.
Anyones useful pride.
Take me or leave me. I'll just keep
Walking on.
It's all I've known.
To pick up
And go.
Haven't seen another side.

If you want me. Take my hand.
I can't make you do anything.
That's why I just hover.
I'm not settling.
Don't hide beneath my grey wing.

I'll be waiting.
Because that's the game of life.
Until whoever finds me.
I'll just stay hidden inside.
With a maniacal grin.

Like a test, for you to see.
I'll remain cold inside.
Until a fire warms me.
When I'm released from this decreed.
From the souls death of memories
that made it bleed.
About my search. Tryn to find a connection. Finding only moments. And feeling like I am just wandering aimlessly. Alone.
Cassidy Noyes Feb 2014
She sees nothing but disgust
She sees someone who is not good enough,
Someone who can't live up to anyones expectations
Full of self hate
Absolutely drowning in it
Hopelessly waiting, that someone will come and save her.

-Cassidy Rae
Claire Ellen Feb 2013
someone once broke my heart,
and it wasnt anyones fault but him,
one time i gave my heart to a boy
and he played with it like a toy.
i am not trying to complain
but really i'm in a lot of pain.
i gave you my heart knowing
that you might not be showing
me and my heart the right way
so really i shouldnt have gave
you the key.
i'm saying that it wasn't just you it was me.
maybe our relationship was as crazy as it seemed,
i convinced myself of so many things,
when really it was only good for a week,
and really it wasn't that strong; more meek.
we were both loud outrageous people,
and that living room couldnt hold both our attidudes.
you stole the laughter out of my eyes,
you stole the music from my ears.
really this wasn't our relationship,
it was yours, you owned it.
Katelyn Foley Mar 2015
Ugly- The definition of a girl, is given by the guys who broke her heart and the girls she used to look up to.

Useless- The feeling of never being good enough because you cant even make your parents happy. Not worth anyones time.

Stupid- Not getting perfect grades at a honor school and being made fun of by those who you thought loved you.

Depressed- The feeling you get when no one understands that your crying on your knees everynight asking god to help you to make you feel like you are worth something then being kicked while your crying by your best friend. Giving up on everyone and everything.

Scared- That gut feeling you always have because everyone you love always leaves so what makes Dylan any different? When I am the same girl I was when everyone else left?

Unwanted- The feeling an adopted kid like myself, when not even her brother wants to be a part of her life. When your parents didn't want you only 2 weeks after birth..?

So someone, ANYONE, tell me why I should continue on with my life acting like everything is perfect and okay when honestly IT IS NOT OKAY!!! NOTHING IS OKAY! I am sorry that I was never perfect and never good.. I tried.. I really did and maybe one day y’all might, just might realize that I was breaking, slowly breaking, painfully trying to make everyone happy when I was the one suffering most.. I just wish I would've noticed this when I was younger and didn't waste so much of my life trying to figure out where I went wrong when that was never the issue. The issue was that I couldn't accept that I couldn't be perfect, I never would be, and that I cant change something I have no control over.. Maybe if I realized that earlier my life would've been just a bit happier, maybe not.. But my mom once told me that everything happens for a reason and she was right…
Stay strong no matter what..
Mike Patten Jul 2013
i had a thing up with this girl,
but it turned out it was wrong,
its ended now,
so i just thought,
that i might right this song,
im not gonna whine,
im not gonna ****** cry,
instead il just say thank you,
for making me this new guy,
for opening my eyes,
cause now i see,
that everything that feels this good is never meant to be,
it still hurts you know,
inside of me,
so il wait patiently until it leaves.

but its not that simple,
see you cant just quit it,
when its deep inside of you,
when its what your livin,
see i get blamed for theft,
at least attempted,
cause people dont know that whole story,
step off,
if anyones to blame,
yeah its me,
come on haters let it out,
you can rip me piece to piece,
but leave her alone,
its not her fault im a ****** idiot you should know by now im ******,
so let me hear it,
cause imma only shrug it off,
cause you gon' judge me anyway so hommie get lost,
im not gon Change,
nah, i Can't,
so if thats what you want from me,
best i can do is rant.
If it takes six people to carry my coffin....
Than I hope four people have nothing better to do that day...
A chance to be who I once was is not an option anymore...
Like my prayers are all put on hold over the hotline of hope...
All the angels now are tired of my sin...
The halo I once owned is pawned to finance my defiance...
Now i feel like the darkness i invited became a constant companion...
Like a cornered animal I will not be touched....
I can spew the worst parts of life from my body with a voice that refuses to be quiet....
But If i were to paint a picture of my heaven the only color i would need is black....
The words on my tombstone would be simple and clear...
Not loving Father.. Brother or Son....
Not Missed Remembered or Loved....
Simply Liar Addict And Disappointment...
Just a person who had three different names born 1984....
What will be the year after that number...
Gone to soon is like a beautiful way to say never should have been here...
Will I be a thought on anyones mind when im gone???
I hope not I dont want to be anyones burden when I leave....
A poem that summed up my opinion of myself at a very dark time in my life... What I wrote reminds me that I am possibly my worst enemy...
Filmore Townsend Dec 2012
- - - and i have been thirteen years out,
thirteen cast out, in it to
impress with some congress
and break a rhyming scheme
with some unrelated information
that could – and would –
ramble on and on, trapped in a
roundabout and listless format
pressed upon from birth in
mimicking action of that conception.
of anyones, of graphic denial
to linger in bliss and in blind
parasitic servitude.
- - - and i went for a cigarette,
and basked in the sun on a
November-ending day.
and i thought
of my plans, and how i am
pathing myself; and i thought
of my writing, and how i am
advancing myself; and i thought
of my life, and how i am
fulfilling myself; and i thought
of my death, and will i be
able to accept myself. and in on
in repetition, once again
in haste, in waste, in mending
of past-lives and weaving their
threads into this greater fabric.
- - - and my **** is constantly hard,
and i try to be shameful of Sin
on the long winter nights.
then there’s a point in exhaustion
when the mind stops. stoic absence.
“what brought you to this town?”
a bad decision, a woman.
“mind if i pray’d for you?”
if you want.
“mind if i pray’d right now?”
one hand grasped in both of his,
‘oh heavenly . .’
kindness out into the world.
and my ***** constantly hard
and my lungs tarred
and a harsh word traded for prayer.
- - - and perception becomes skew’d
with the last drop of sanity
cryin’ forth to ride the snake,
to nip at Apollo’s heels in
his retreat at the end of night.
and to wail from my place of rest
at the loss of the Sun’s mistress,
to the loss of a lover given.
logic null’d by the body of another,
inert love, nothing more than
a little friction.
we press’d against each other
with hopes that we could
impress upon anothers physicality.
venial sin, so long as confess’d.
congenial sins we are bound to regress.
- - - and i beg to be set free,
beg to be loose’d,
to have the notch that is me
relieved of a taut string.
to feel my force release’d
through the heart of another.
to be witness to a love
called ones own while Ross
wails on with his epic poem.
we fail as the red and white
haul us to a stroboscoping stop –
intermittent breathing and panic.
Emma Amme Aug 2014
I don’t want to be touched in ways that make my insides turn to licorice
I don’t want you to hold my hand because it binds us to the public and you own me.
I don’t want to kiss in movie theaters.
I don’t want to have *** in the back of your car.
I dont like doing things that feel like a betrayal to myself
Every time our hands intertwine or our lips press together
In a half hearted attempt to rekindle the butterflies that are long gone
Sit at the bottom of my stomach. Dead.
When I fake *******, smiles, lies about how happy I am
I feel apart of myself tangle up
Making me smaller and smaller until im a ball of knots.
I don’t want to be anyones *** interest
Safety boat
Most important person because it limits me to what I can be to myself.
I don’t want to be touched in ways that betray myself and make me any less of my own most important person.
babydulle Oct 2013
When we walk back to our rooms,
Talking about what we’ll do in our lives,
Once we’ve grown up and grown out
She says to me
‘It’s ok.
You’ll get a job easily because you are English
And you are white.’
I don’t have a reply
I want to show her the nights I spend studying, coffee induced, trying to make it to deadlines to get that grade
Believe me
There is nothing in this skin colour that can achieve that A, that job or that degree
Yes
I know I am lucky
My family history may not hold your exact pain
But tragedy is also in the ancestry of all of my forefathers’ names.
Does she know that her family earns more than mine?
That if our bodies were painted
hers would look gold
And mine would look off white
Like the old Vauxhall left around the corner
Broken and damaged
Doing its best to still run
It is spray painted white
Of course it works.
I am tired of being made to feel guilty for being the colour of milk bottles.
All lined up,
We are freezing into frosted shadows
Like we deserve the cold
We have been thrown into a snowstorm and told it does not matter if we are lost because at least we are not seen as different.
How can I tell her that snowflakes are all naturally unique?
All different shapes and densities and depths
I could only be whiter if I was dead
A corpse
Would I still be entitled to the world if I wasn’t even around to live in it?
We are told to celebrate difference
And I am in total agreement
But since when were pale shades considered nowhere near as important?
I can’t even be thankful that I was born in this gender
Because being referred to as a ‘typical white girl’ is a personal offender
Offended, offended
I know we are sick of political correctness
But why do manifestos of equality make feel like I’m worth less
In no way am I saying my skin colour makes me better
I am saying we should not target people for something they have to live in forever
We are all born into varying shades of brilliance
So why attack anyone?
Do not resist this
Do you think colour-blind people give a **** about anyones’ races?
It is not about looks or image or even faces
It is about heart and mind and love and affection
So why is my skin colour the only thing that grabs your attention?
Just last week there was an article written stating
That white working class boys were doing worse in the tables
Than any other race in the United Kingdom
Is this because we teach that white working class boys are entitled to everything
Except for an education, except for the freedom
To be proud of their skin colour, themselves, their entire culture
Instead we tell them
At one point in time
You had it all
Complete power and look what you did with it
How can they ever learn to trust themselves if we keep reminding them of what their great great grandfathers have done?
This article entitled them ‘the problem’ with British schools
As if budget cuts and institutionalized bullying isn’t what’s at fault at all
The villain in films often wears a mask – does he do that so you can’t see his skin colour?
So you can’t see that there is good and evil in all of us no matter how dark or pale you are
Do not make a villain of yourself
Do not make a villain of me
Please teach your children it is ok to be whatever skin colour they are born in
Tell them to wear it like their favourite dress or their favourite tie
Tell them they look good, that they suit it
Please teach them they are worth the world
Please teach yourselves, it is ok to be white.

— The End —