"arial" poems
generation d
generation depressed bold, underlined, size 12, arial
generation death is no longer a want it's a need, look at the eyebags this education chose to breed
generation dizzy this tequila doesn't burn as much as your name on the tip of my tongue does
generation dish your depression jokes on a platter, serve it warm, cold, frozen - whatever makes you laugh goes, right?
generation dobby is not a ******* free elf
generation dopamine, because honestly, where the **** is mine
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
I’m never ever going to get any work done sitting at a computer
rather than with a pen in my hand and a thought on my mind.
In Arial black I will waste away my time
by sitting on a website designed to keep my mouth shut and my eyes glued
to the glowing screen of the worlds media, that I don’t really care about,
but yet I care too much about.
I open all of the tabs and write down very few words
and what ever happened to writing complete and utter nonsense
just for the hell of it?
And why did I ever open this laptop to write a poem
that will be cut off by a website calling for me to look at its pretty pictures
and witty text posts.
And why will this drivel make me feel so **** happy
when all it does is waste my time and lower my grades
and destroy my self esteem
that has already been mostly deleted?
Why do I decide to waste all of these moments with wishes
when I could go out and make them realities?
I sit on this computer and stare at the blankness of other peoples thoughts
and mock the imbeciles for wasting all of their time coming up with stupid rhymes
and sarcastic remarks that they think are hilarious ,
but really they are pointless.
And though I laugh at their foolishness;
they are no worse
than I.
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
Fragmented pieces of scarlet memories,
trees of stout arms reaching.... affection the fruit it carries,
Mauvey plumes sprout this golden harvest of my imagination.
I'm drawn to taste commitment's nectar
Hear now the sitars melody, notes in Arial Black on Milky White,
I climbed the apple tree in this garden of light,
The colorful wind melodiously blowing a heretic hero's demise,
Though shaken my grasp prevailed the prize.
Alas through and through my vantage point reveals a view,
The floating dislocated memories on a river of silky love,
That rise and brush the teardrops from my cheeks,
Then spirit away like frightened doves.
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 1:04 PM UTC
A tailor bird, though busy wanted to stitch the best
of clothes for me to wear , in a fair, getting nearer,
so thankful, I was, though it'd hardly fit a man
of my size, I bow my head, overwhelming is her love!
The swift, I always admire for her speed, promises
to take me for an arial tour, 100 km an hour, no less
all 148gm, of love is she !though I appreciate that,hardy can
I fly with this tiny parcel of energy, many a kin whose love
again is hard to reciprocate, unless I realize we all are one.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 10:01 PM UTC
A black ball of grime,
two legs sticking out
of the top.
Gooey and all covered
in slime, it's silently bleeding
and cannot stop will not stop.
Farrell the adventures,
Farwell the friends that made
his arial travels shorter,
his stare is not with us
anymore he has forgot
whatever friends there ever was
Dead Pigeon.
Tossed like a pile of ****
ran over a couple dozen of times
by tires and people's kicks.
But he is dead he just won't react,
someone please do something!
Dead Pigeon.
The bird deserves a burial
he is calling at me
with his glossy eyes:
asking me to help
but I can't
Dead Pigeon
But he still lives!
His eyes, veiled,
bloodshot and black,
point at the gutter as if to say:
Oh the Horror! The Horror!
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 8:28 PM UTC
she's not an artist, the only reason you say that is she eats less than 400 calories a day, without counting. she wears scarves and gloves in the summer-time: inside. her life mission is to categorize the vowels into three levels of hell. so far, she's found purgatory inside the tiny bowl she uses for an ash tray.
once, she spray-painted the wall that she passes on her way to the collective mailbox. it reads "send me peace signs in the shape of dying swans. love, me". she types exactly two words daily, ten point arial font.
she crashes funerals by wearing the only rainbow item in her closet. it made the local news one night, but her name turned inside out in people's throats and they ate without realizing they were different.
her eyes are green.
she sleeps on her back, straw-faced and shrinking.
she faked her own death to see if anyone would notice; then posted it on youtube. three months and 603 views later, she shot herself at an anti-abortion rally. they buried her with the reams of paper reading fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat. fox hat.
Nov 28, 2010
Nov 28, 2010 at 3:55 PM UTC
Microsoft "WURD"
slang font.
i know your type.
you like Arial.
you dig Arial Black cause there's no Arial White.
she wears a size 0.
invisible to the eye.
she's from Georgia.
print her out on white paper.
she'll be prettier than Courier New Times New Roman.
her Impact on Felix Titling will be extravagant.
she'll put him under a spell with her Book Antiqua.
you'll give up on her and take a train through the Terminal towards Tahoma in the "Golden State"
you'll come across Verdana who is a size 12.
bold as you are, you'll ask why she tries to underline her beauty by showing off her colon(:) .
and you ask her why women are always cranky before they get their period (.) ?
[arial, arial black, georgia, courier new, times new roman, impact, felix tilting, book antiqua, terminal, tahoma, verdana=different fonts]
May 28, 2010
May 28, 2010 at 1:14 PM UTC
From a bird's-eye view
I bet those feathered creatures
don't envy us
They must look down
from their arial dance
and pity us
We scurry about in
our cities and towns like mice,
as if we are caught up in a maze
Rats chasing after
a prized piece of cheese
in a hectic world
Bumping into one another
in a rush to get to a destination
that is slowly doing us in
How I wish to soar on bird wings
To be rid of this rat race,
finding my way out of the maze
Nov 20, 2010
Nov 20, 2010 at 8:30 AM UTC
A hypothermic
jungle, limbs removed.
Garbled mating
songs and silences.
Arial view:
Technicolor.
Black and gray.
Black.
Silences.
Silence.
Was that a flower?
No, a candy wrapper.
No, a rotting fingernail.
Jul 1, 2010
Jul 1, 2010 at 9:56 PM UTC
Hey there Cinderella
watch your every step
for every path you take
is only made of glass.
Wake up Briar Rose
the fairies dance
and the dragons burn
while you slumber on.
Be careful Snow White
don't trust those who
bitterly believe
in only what they see.
Let it go Rapunzel
there's a world out there
once upon a discovery
a time to remember.
Don't hide Mulan
sleep is not worth the stay
better to fight to die
than left behind to cry.
Goodbye Arial
don't lose your song
while leaving your home
with your heart by your side.
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
Thinking that someone loves you is better than nothing,
but what people don't realize is that it was all pokes at jokes
and I bet he smokes,
or knows I do
and doesn't like the smell,
or the way I breathe out,
or how the rings come from my mouth
and are never on my fingers.
And I have paper cuts on those same fingers
that want to be in your hair,
and your body,
(all of it),
and I hope you want them there,
because that's exactly where they'll be
if we ever meet.
The dirt buried in my prints
will leave marks on you like a million hands and feet,
drenched in paint and smeared over your temple.
I bet you don't care what I look like,
or that I have a Van Gough pin,
or that people like to write my name.
I'm glad you like to listen,
and that you're smooth with words,
so I can fall asleep to the sound of your golden text.
I never thought I would like an arial view,
or that I would fall in love with strings of it
all laced together into a perfect fabric,
(or web).
I hope that you're not allergic to sound,
or jelly beans,
because I want to see you cry and smile at the same time.
Aug 23, 2010
Aug 23, 2010 at 6:51 PM UTC
Marcus,
I left a message on your answering machine
but you have yet to respond. It's been
two weeks, perhaps more. I lost count.
At the moment, the streaks have accelerated
and multiplied. They resemble an arial view of
cyclists competing in the Tour de France; they're
like multitudes of ***** pennies vying for that one
eternal slot.
Hey, man. At least I tried. I'm drained of all that
is sacred. The me you knew as a child, is still that
innocent figure left standing by the door. Except
this time, he's not coming back anymore.
I guess you could say I'm finally free.
How silly it is to depend on such modern
machinery. Man has come this far just to end up abandoned.
And yet man is constantly searching for a self to wrap up
in a tidy little package; to display for the entire world to see.
I thought I'd drop by, in the form
of random sequences; this present motion
is like a ballon being released from it's
needy little string. The desire was always
following me around, but now
I'm fathoms deep in the sky;
Drowning happily.
Marcus, if you find the time
to put aside the nuclear children
and wife. Please call back,
so we can have that man to man
talk you promised for so
many years.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 10:11 PM UTC
Once lover
Now unclickable Facebook user
Your name exists in an unknown dimension
neat black with Arial font
As familiar as strange
Making no sense
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 4:40 AM UTC
I like the way your name looks,
in Times New Roman,
in Comic Sans.
I like the way it looks in
Thames, Condensed,
and Arial (bold or italicized.)
I like the way your name looks
scrawled across papers and note books
and I like the way
your name looks next to mine.
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 4:30 AM UTC
I’m trying <!DOCTYPE html>
<html> Baby, I’m trying <head>
<!-- HTML Codes by Quackit.com -->
I’m trying <title> to see through
all the weeds "width=device-width">
<style> of our modern landscape
but I know my search {:left;background}
is a futile effort.{font-family:Arial, sans-serif}
{font-family:Georgia, serif} This is our world
now, and I’m just trying ;14px;font
</style>
to see
</head>
through
<body>
the madness
</body>
of the weeds.
-Ron </head> Gavalik </body>
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 5:12 PM UTC
I'm trying to muster up the words to say to you,
the words that could make or break everything we've built.
The words are fighting to cross my lips.
Two years we've been in this cycle,
falling in and out of one another.
A connection that has refused to die,
surviving one another's heartaches like an old friend.
It never mattered how long it was between conversations.
We always picked up right where we left,
only each time,
a little bit older.
This time though, I fell
a little bit deeper.
I can feel your sigh through the speaker of my phone,
feel your lips part as you struggle for words.
I try to keep my eyes dry as my nerves raise,
breaths deepen.
My lips are dry.
Confessions like this are meant to be personal;
confessions like this are meant to be said face to face.
Massapequa and Mukwonago do not face each other.
They don't so much as touch,
which is what makes this so tough.
Your stunning brown eyes that smile more than your lips aren't what stares back at me when I look at your name on my screen.
Only the text.
Only the arial font, black against the blue speech bubbles.
To know what it would feel like to say these words to your face would be
knowing how to make this work.
But time and money are not on our side.
When you told me you loved me,
you told me it was different.
You told me you tell everyone you love them but it's empty.
I asked how I was different,
and all you told me is the first thought you'd have should
we ever meet
would be to kiss me.
You told me the first thing you'd do
would be to ensure we were connected more than ever:
lips
to
lips.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 4:38 PM UTC
Sweet little Arial
came home to find her mother lying on the floor
she gave her a shake
pushed on her chest
but nothing woke her up.
So she laid in her arms
started to cry
as Arial spoke these words.
"Hold me mama
don't leave me
I'll stay right here by your side
as long as I am here
your soul can not depart
stay away from the light"
But as the hours went
her mothers skin went cold
her arm pulled away.
Arial stayed laid with her mother
until she was taken away and laid down to rest
never will she feel her mothers touch again
forever she will feel the pain
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 3:17 AM UTC
My wallpaper
is an arial shot of my city
City where I ran, swam and flew
Whose walls, lanes and aging generations
hold my secrets
till the silent approach of eternity
And I see, from the top
As god would have, those days -
crosses where we met
Still backgrounds, and two dots flickering
Everything begins to flicker now,
and I close my eyes shut
There I was,
there was she
I had her
and she had me
But back then, we thought of far
and today we got there
Thousands of miles,
and many unshared experiences apart
It was so simple
It was right there, in front of me
But the unknown future,
the master planner,
so cleverly makes us choose
Between what we have
and what we might
Staring high on a cold starry night,
but lusting within, that warm red light
One wish, O' sweet destiny
Let me go back
and hold her near, up so close
Let me go back
and join her lovely shadows
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
Here is the truth for all to see,
I cant be the mommy my kids need.
Broken down by a battle that haunts me night and day.
Having the courage to give them a better life.. Is the true definition of unconditional love..
Knowing that I cant be the mommy they need is a scary thing .
But letting them have a chance of a
Normal life is
The only thing
I know to do..
Being saddened and depressed is
A reality that may come with this choice.
I just hope that one day my kids will understand and respect this decision
And forgive me for not there..
Know that I love them and will never stop.
Mersadie lynm black your my eldest and i love you so to the moon and back.
Maxwell orion howard my middle one
Mommy loves you so much she is hoping you u will understand
I have weaknesses but I always think of you
and Molly ann cowan my little angel i love you so
..
Your smile will brighten the world
And lastly
Stormee rose
You Are to be born in 39 days
I love you also I hope you know
Giving you to Arial so she can bea mommy is the best gift you get..
Your our littlest miracle
Cant wait to meet you and kiss you so light..
As I hand you to your new mommy
Its a honor to be the reason you all get to be alive .. Each of you are special
And mommy will be here when the day comes to explain and hope You understand the reasons
I couldn't be the mommy you all need..
Unconditional love is what I give to you the chance to become all you can be and grow up to
Be amazing adults!
By Annamarie rose newell
December 9th 2016
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC
One ray-less day I will see it,
My name
Writing in Arial print
Pleasurable and slink in the
Obituary
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 9:33 AM UTC
What he does who plants a tree!
O he plants
The seeds of
A better Earth
A peaceful abode
For sweet arial
Creatures
The best place
To nurture
The mother Melody
Of Mother Nature
From these creatures!
He who plants a tree
Infuses a cylinder
Of unending supply
Of life to this planet!
He plants cool shade
And tender rain
Soulful Melody
And sweet grain;
He who plants a tree
Not only with goodness
But also loyalty
Doesn't just add someone
To his family
But beyond it
Does Civic good
Under hood!
In the hollows of that
Mighty being
Lies the blessing hand
Of Him
He who plants a tree
Does so much
Do you see!
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 12:43 AM UTC