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Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Where do we meet
    Oh! No He_*
Getting onto
the next courses
Oh La- La "Cheri"
K>ANSAS>>City

_ Prime spot pretty

 let's >- jump ))) To Love
Please raise the horses

What a skirt steak in her
Petticoat Junction
Going to Kansas City affection
Different tribe or breed
What needs to love me
tender Elvis meet Beavis Buthead
    More  T.L.C  
computer DOC Tick Tock
IRS taking a meat beef
chunk is everybody drunk
IOS what is really the meat
Business Politician Trump

Subscribe well done
Cooked or rare spooked
Taking a Spin City kick
She got canned and licked
The prime meat hot seat

The ******* who arrives
first class steak knifes
Ms. Pork hard chew 
Mr. Beans second rate
Dark pumpernickel
Saloon *******, he
is eating
The young tender
chicken leg

High five thigh? Hands
up Robin Fly
Save the meat "let it be"
  "Let it Be" Beatles
The beat Colonel deep fried
Grade A rare meat slicing

Eating in a board meeting
The pig meat market
of pricing

Doe a deer
he loves
International beer
A very sensitive time
Slaughterhouse no way out
His poker face meets
potato heads beef jerky
Surrender Weds
maple smiles picky
The rich Syrup
Disney Mickey Mouse
Kansas City Wonder
meat house

The beauty of animals
"Moms kettle she is talking
to Parrots" meat
the market for rings riot
Six enemies making
6 rounds
Six servants 666 carats
Robin smiles heartily
"Campbells Chicken" little


He's the Beef Man stew
If you only knew

He's spitting tobacco chew
She peels the potato for the
meathead bad to the
T-bone Dachshund I Bone

Garlic knots heart of the
Sausage wearing the
meat corsage Superbowl
My sweet basil good soul
Grilling your bullhead
Pirate Ribeye steak pupils
Mr. "Billygoat" Bachelorette
Hair flat crepe Suzette

Moms Korean style fuss
coleslaw
what a seesaw
Playing Porgy and Bess
 Scarlet the red rare meat
Rolling stone baking pin
Mississippi one or two
Under my meaty thumb

Comes in three-4-5-6- Lucky 7
-Crazy 8 furries
Nine meat ribs-10 babies
with bibs
Hungry Man meat when!!
Country plaid tablecloth
"Kansas Men" of the cloth
The Pig approval
Kansas City Mayor
new arrival

Family together eating
Don't eat our animals
Why is life so unfair
Feeding the poor
with cans
The bad cut of meat devil
this is not the "Grade A"
This is not a ring
circus trainer Bullseye

Robin coffee animal-friendly
Two peas in a pod I pods
  I tune like Gods
Were the luckiest people to have
animals  

The Floridian with dog murals
Palm trees green thumb
plants sunshine events
The symphony dog tails
of hunts
Whats to compare her twilight
eyes hold the moment stare
Talk to the animal's hearts care
The barbecue all the meat men and the women who love their fruit listen to the Owl lady how she hoots those Kansas city slicker boots and the Hehaw have a good time with family and friends treat the animals with tender loving care
oddmanout Jun 2018
Don't get me wrong
I love the Bachelor
and the Bachelorette

The getaways
The fun dates
the good looking people

But is it that's what's wrong with dating today?

Instead of worthiness
We're in it for the pic
what looks best on instagram
while inside we yearn for contentedness

But restlessness is what we're given
got to keep up with the joneses
we're afraid to let ourselves feel
for people based on status

Is it a twilight zone scene
can't be because it's around
from the beginning
ancient royals doing the same
but now we're in a modern aristocracy

So I'll turn off the Bachelorette tonight
I don't need fancy
I need supportive
and sweet
In it for the long haul
and loves me wholly
Miss me with the fake love
and give me the real
judy smith Jul 2015
Kaitlyn Bristowe and Shawn Booth open up about breaking the rules and their plans for a (really big) family. Subscribe now for all the details plus exclusive photos, only in PEOPLE!

Get ready to toast to Mr. and Mrs. Booth!

Kaitlyn Bristowe and Shawn Booth, who got engaged on The Bachelorette's season finale, are ready to walk down the aisle … just as soon as they take a little breather.

"We just want to enjoy the moment right now," Booth, 29, tells PEOPLE exclusively. "It's been so crazy. We just want to hang out as a normal couple, do a little traveling and then sit down and start making some plans."

Adds his bride-to-be: "We can't wait. We don't need to plan it right now, but we can't wait."

And the famously laid-back former dance instructor, 30, says she's already got a couple visions for her big day in mind.

"I always picture myself having a destination wedding because I'm so low-maintenance," Bristowe says. "I don't want to pick out flowers or colors, I just want to be like, 'yes, no, yes, no' ."

Jokes Booth: "I always pictured a wedding in Vegas at a little chapel!"

As far as expanding their family down the road? It might happen sooner rather than later, if you ask Bristowe.

"I have such baby fever," she admits. "I want four [kids]. Shawn wants five. And I hope to God I have all boys."

"One girl," Booth chimes in. "One girl that looks like her mom!"

For much more from Kaitlyn and Shawn, including exclusive photos, pick up the new issue of PEOPLE, on stands Friday

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane
b for short Jun 2014
Three jobs, seven cats,
crooked glasses, and wet hair.
*(I know you want me.)
© Bitsy Sanders, June 2014
judy smith Aug 2015
Being asked to be in a bridal party is a huge honor and one that you probably don’t want to have to turn down because you can’t afford it.

“I’ve been in two weddings and have attended seven. When you’re asked to be part of a wedding, you just think about that one day, but you don’t really take into consideration the engagement party or the bridal shower, and the bachelorette party,” NerdWallet’s Jessica Lindquist says. “I split the hotel with some of the other bridesmaids, so that was one way I was able to cut down on costs so I could attend all of those events.”

Here are five ways you, too, can accept a bridal party invitation without having to stress out over the cost.

1. Trim expenses on your hair, makeup, nails and outfit if you’re asked to be a bridesmaid. Check whether anyone you know is skilled with hair or makeup and if so, ask him or her to do it for you. Another option is to have a professional do either your hair or makeup and do the other one yourself. Also, skip the pricey mani and pedis — DIY them!

For your bridesmaid dress, offer to assist the bride in picking one she likes but that is also affordable for you. Help the bride put together a style board beforehand so you’ll know her tastes and can do some of the research ahead of time. Plan bridal dress shopping days around upcoming sales for major retailers, so you’ll have more affordable options to choose from.

Once you’ve bought the bridesmaid dress, bring it to a trusted tailor who won’t overcharge you for alterations. Chances are you won’t be wearing it much after the wedding, so don’t splurge on getting it fitted at the dress shop.

If you’re going to be a groomsman, save money on your clothing by wearing a suit you already own — or if you must don black tie, search for a good price on renting a tux.

2. Get involved with the bachelorette or bachelor party planning so you can have a say in how much it ends up costing. You might think this is aggressive, but Gail Blachly, another Nerd, says addressing expenses head-on can be beneficial.

“Have those open discussions with the bride or the groom to say, ‘How much do you think I need to set aside?’ Because they’re open to having those discussions, too,” she says. “They’re in the process, they’re making their own budgets; they understand that it’s a need-to-know fact.”

3. Make a gift plan. If you feel comfortable splitting bridal shower or bachelorette/bachelor party presents with the rest of the wedding party, do so. If not, aim to spend 20% of your gift budget on the shower, 20% on the bachelorette/bachelor and 60% on the wedding.

4. Use your credit card rewards or loyalty program points to help cover travel and lodging costs. Since it can take some time to earn enough points, start saving as soon as possible.

5. Set a savings goal and work to meet it. As soon as you agree to be in the bridal party, talk with the bride or groom to estimate how much it’ll cost you and use that as your savings goal.

You might think you can’t afford to be a bridesmaid or groomsman, but don’t say no right away. With a little planning and resourcefulness, you can afford more than you realize. The next time you’re asked to join a bridal party, follow these suggestions so the experience leaves you with fond memories and sound finances.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses
During my Childhood.
a New Hampshire father of twin boys named Joe taught me that friendship, love, and respect,
meant wrestling.
He was a burly man
with glasses and a salt and pepper beard
Who loved guitar hero, dunkin' doughnuts and Motorcycles.
One day joking to his adult friends I heard:
"I'm a lesbian trapped in a mans body"

Now, Joe did not mean this the way
we think of it in this community.
He was not transgendered.
probablly didn't even know they exist.
He was simply saying.
"I have an attraction to girls who will never love me, because I have a *****,
and Isn't that tragic enough for a punchline?"
Though a young boy,
I identified with that.

In middle school, the media convinced me
that gay boys were getting all the ladies.
So I needed everyone to know I was gay.
that way, they'd be my friends,
and get naked in front of me.
It worked.
However, I still could not get a girlfriend.
And I did not want a boyfriend.
because again, It was all a 10 year old me's
Con just to see girls undress.

A year or two goes by
being gay
To get a girlfriend.
when on the television:
I see Tila Tequila.
A bisexual Bachelorette reality Show.

Wait! I said to my mother.
"I CAN LIKE BOTH?"
"Sure you can! I do.
This one time, aunt spider and I"
"Mom! That's enough."

So in my living room,
Surrounded by fold-out tables
And chicken parmesisan
I pronounced myself bisexual.

I had the best of both worlds! I could watch girls undress, AND have a girlfriend.
This was not relevant however, for a while.
As I still had not developed social skills.

Enter highschool awkward bisexual boy.
I'd never actually been attracted to a man before...
But I wasn't ruling it out.
zero percent of the woman I fell for seemed to like men,
Or more accurately, me.
I was resonating closer to the
"Lesbian trapped in a mans body"
line then ever before.
I probablly asked out every female senior, every girl I grew up with.
every girl who looked at me, to go on a date.
All to be turned down.
Except one.
I entered college with a monogamous Long-term relationship raising A beautiful Nerd girl's daughter.
Seemed like I had it made.
Young parents.
Both bisexual.
Together we flushed out Every kink and curvature of what pleasured us.
Then two years later.
My grandmother died,
I lost my job of four years,
She left me,
taking our daughter with her.
Devastated, I turned to the most destructive of known vices.
Tinder.

I went on first and last date after parking lot hookup after rooftop romance with these girls.
Writing poetry all the while to document my stresses.
I was no longer "A lesbian trapped in a mans body."
If anything, I was a lesbian
Thriving! In a mans body.

This came up at a party once
We were playing rockband when I said it.
A woman spoke up:
"You're devalueing the phrase for transgendered woman who use it!
It's dissrepectfull."
When I tried to explain myself:
That it helped me rationalize
years of rejection
laugh at my own failure.
Build the foundation
for my optimistic attitude
By saying it's not me.
I just like lesbians.
it made my failures a predictable Punchline.

But I was weak.
They convinced me.
I stopped identifying as
"A lesbian thriving in a mans body."
from then on, I was a man.

Years have passed and I've given a lot of love to a lot of people.
Learned a lot about my preferences
Sexually, romantically, personally.

At the momment:
I am a:
Hetero flexible
Polyamorous
Male.

But deep down I know.
Even though I'll never say it.
Because it isn't really true.
Or maybe because it's offensive.
Or maybe because i'm scared.
I'll always be a lesbian
Thriving as a man.
JJ Hutton Mar 2015
Return trip from the borderlands
and Maria, she's driving though
she's had a little too much based
on the tremors and the listless
drift of the party bus from left lane
to right.
I'm in my Chuck Taylor's,
the Warhols, the $795 collector's,
thumbing through my girlfriend's
Facebook timeline. She just bought
a Picasso, a self-portrait. I want
to stab her with the long end
of my ****-me shoes. They're
on the carpeted floor. Jenny's
on the carpeted floor too. I roll
her on her side so she doesn't
choke on her own *****. Hero.
The path lights overhead start
blinking and somebody, Kate
or Kristen, I get them mixed up,
starts screaming, "Strobe." We're
in the left lane going ninety, ninety-five.
The right lane looks weak.
Jenny mumbles something as I step over her.
"What's that?" I ask.
"Read the quiet book. Love the quiet book.
the whole human experience captured
in twenty-six scattered symbols."
Someone's in the ****** laughing.
We go into a tunnel and everything
goes quiet and thoughtful and black.
Breathe in through the nose and out
the same way. Click the heels together
and wait.
Wally Knuckles Aug 2013
Chatting
of their love
between  
cocktails and cuts.

As if
it isn't a gut shot.

As if
it isn't a *******
mule kick
to the head.

As if
it isn't the
missing piece.
Liam May 2013
personal journal musings from last week...*

Stopped in at my neighborhood pub last night
  a couple of pints, some word exchange
Colorful place on a perfect Spring evening
  people on tap, constantly spilling in and out

The place is bustling and packed
  loud and dynamic
Sound flowing on open air
  drifting in from sidewalk patio and out to beer garden

Luckily nab a lonely stool near the entrance
  girl sitting kitty-corner around curving end of bar
Casually we cover topics from her mac 'n cheese
  to wind chill generated by ceiling fans

Conversation is suddenly confiding
  prior night's end-all fight with her live-in boyfriend
Obvious need to talk to someone neutral
  bartenders are busy, so it's me and we do

She's come seeking emotional sanctuary
  awaiting his departure to some event
Unhappy with her role in the argument
  unhappy with the person she has become with him

They'd intended to go ring shopping
  as recently as last week
She now looks forward only to the comfort of
  quiet, pajamas, ice cream, dreamless sleep

Upon leaving, she twice asks that I promise
  to be here if she finds no solitude and must return
This is no request...more of an appeal
  alone in privacy is one thing...alone in festivity another

I promise twice - I'll be here
  she doesn't return
I sincerely hope that she's well on her way to
  an ice cream induced pj slumber

              Less than an hour later...same bar stool

Pleasingly boisterous bachelorette party arrives
  staking claim to a nearby parcel of floor
Numerous "excuse me" squeeze-throughs  for drink orders
  rendering me a semi-familiar bar obstacle

One reveless wedges in, questions me
  what color underpants do I have on...don't recall
Insists that we check...dark bluish-grey
  too bad...she was hoping for purple to match her own

Impishly waiting long enough for my mind to stew
  she finally reveals the query as part of a formal interactive checklist
I apologize for not being more daring in spectrum
  we laugh, nevertheless...strike one

Eventually exchanging pleasantries with another
  a more subtle approach, but the inquisition repeats
Here we go again...Batter up!...Red?...very sorry...strike two
  I'm feeling of no value to this effort

Red offers me a redeeming pitch from the list
  someone must serenade the bride-to-be
I accept and get to meet the veiled celebrity
  she wears an engaging and jubilant aura

Gauging the atmosphere, I decide against romantic
  opting for a song that playfully questions the sanity of her choice
From my heart, I sing the chorus to Matchbox Twenty's "Unwell"
  It goes over very well and I avoid strike three

She and I hit it off, we discuss her wedding plans
  discover our roots are in the same part of the city
I'm rewarded for my musical contribution
  allowed to buy her a shot of Patrón...the checklist dwindles

Now partaking in the excitement of their celebration  
  an honorary addition to the large but exclusive group
My joyous new acquaintance has us take a picture together
  a snapshot of this special occasion to which I've somehow been privileged

A train of waves, goodbyes, thanks, and good lucks
  trails the party as I watch it crawl to the next establishment
In the hushed cacophony, I return to my thoughts
  a fantastic diversity of emotional experience within two short hours

My elbows on the bar in sober contemplation
  counting crows ...one...two...juxtaposed
A contrast of simultaneous realities
  somberly lamenting vs vibrantly anticipating

Reflecting on the beauty in such contrasts
  that serve to define the images of our lives
I finally come to the inevitable conclusion
  it's time for another pint...of ice cream
judy smith Aug 2015
First of all, if you think I watch Bachelor in Paradise, you’re nuts, so this week’s UnREALfinale came at the perfect time — ending almost alongside its inspiration — exactly one week after, as perhaps an attempt at upping last week’s insane finale. Between then and now, we even heard what host Chris Harrison had to say about the Lifetime homage, and it went something along the lines of, I am super-jealous that it’s good and smart, and my show is neither of those things. Just kidding! He didn’t say that, but I just spelled out the subtext in case you happened to miss it.

Speaking of subtext, one of Quinn’s first lines to Adam this episode unknowingly predicts what is about to unfold. They banter about what went down the night before (you know, just Adam rejecting Rachel after she leaves Jeremy’s bed to run away with him on that private jet of his), and she assures him: “That’s why I’m here. To protect Rachel from herself.” That’s some honesty, I think, despite this show’s attempts at spinning you around so quickly with reveals that you aren’t quite sure who is trying to do what.

She had just left her own version of the Carrie Bradshaw Post-it Note on the pillow next to Jeremy — ”I don’t deserve you!” — but a note so manipulatively vague in its brevity, it could be read a few different ways. But as Perfume Genius plays, it’s clear Quinn got to Adam with some sort of deal-breaker information that we discover later: She tells him about last season’s breakdown, that Rachel checked into a hospital. Rachel denies the second part, but the first is totally true: Quinn knows Rachel is unstable. Sure, she’s warning Adam for her own selfish reasons, but in retrospect, she also knows this fling is a horrendous idea for both of them. “This thing we have? It’s ******,” Adam tells her. Is it a line fed by our “concerned” executive producer? Possibly. Either way, it certainly feels true.

And it’s unbelievably hard not to watch this finale without imagining theories for season two. It puts you in Quinn’s mind-set, and who’s planting the seeds for her next season. And just like us, she needs Adam and Rachel. She doesn’t need Chet, but thanks to our new field producer, Madison, and future featured cast member, Dr. Wagerstein, he goes straight to Brad and makes sure the deal Quinn had with him behind his back isn’t going to happen. “You know who I am,” Chet says to Quinn, excusing his cheating. Quinn answers: “She was me 15 years ago. So now I’m the wifey and you need a new side piece.” It’s the Circle of Trash, and she’s out of the game.

.. Despite the eye makeup, Rachel’s back to unreadable. It’s safer that way. She’s also going to produce the big wedding finale. Quinn’s basically like, Whatever, as long as we take down Chet. Rachel’s fine with that, and if these two can’t craft this guy’s downfall together, they’re not cut out for this business.

When she enters from stage LOL, we assume the return of Brittany is Rachel’s finale showstopper — but it’s not. Chet brought her back to act insane and say wonderfully catchy, ****** things. If you’re a Bachelor/ette watcher, you’ll recall this also being quite accurate in the canon — runner-up creep Nick from this season was a returning “character.” Bringing someone back for a second chance at love is a good way to rile up the remaining hopefuls.

Not that it bothers Grace at all. She promises Adam exactly what he wants to hear: He’ll get laid and get out after next season. She says something about being a “hot-blooded Latina temptress” — words that no human would ever actually say — and you wonder if she’s been fed a line or if UnREAL’s writer’s room got a little overzealous here. I guess one of the magical things about this show is that it’s pointless to try and tell. But is he into it? Rachel isn’t — she tells Grace that even she’s slept with Adam — insane admission, considering she’s trying to keep things up with Jeremy. Doesn’t matter: He gets it out of Adam, who confirms that Rachel is a cheater. It also confirms that Jeremy isn’t a total idiot, something we all previously had assumed.

This Royal Wedding will take place in London at the Cromwell castle, which is all done up, Everlasting style. Adam’s grandmother is not only as obnoxious as he is, she’s also a total racist — telling Adam after he mentions Grace: “We don’t marry brown people.” She puts his reputation back in play and he buys it, ultimately choosing Anna as his bride-to-be. When it comes down to it, he’s a truly ****** guy. Rachel’s Big Plan is basically to trick Adam into “telling” Anna that he’s not really into her. It works, and she plays runaway bride. It’s live TV, so Chet looks bad in front of Brad (nice one, Quinn!) and we end our season of Everlasting with Anna majestically walking down castle stairs, calling Adam “a cheating ****” (true) who is “not that smart” (also true). At first guess, it seems Anna just earned herself a Bachelorette-style spinoff.

And to think that before this episode, so many of you were Team Adam. Not that the other option is a great one — Jeremy got down on one knee and ... nope! He didn’t propose; he told everyone that Rachel is poison and a cheater. He then went straight to her parents’ house and told them that he’s worried about her and thinks she should be institutionalized. Now, that’s cold.

The only relationship worth rooting for by the end of UnREAL season one is between Quinn and Rachel, who are surely a match made in hell, but the best match we’ve got. Rachel knows Quinn ruined her plans to run away with Adam, but after watching how he handled everything, I’m not sure she really cares. “You should be kneeling down thankingwhatever that you didn’t end up as Everlasting’s ultimate tabloid idiot. This was a gift,” Quinn says. She’s right! Imagine the fanfare. If anything, it would give the show major attention and ratings. In a way, she sacrificed that to keep Rachel around and — gasp — be the mentor figure Rachel so desperately needs. They further agree not to **** someone again (RIP, Mary, although I’m sure the producers of UnREAL aren’t holding them to that, exactly), and Quinn brings up a show they had discussed earlier on (The Whole Package, a show about “girls with jobs”). But just as season two of UnREAL will have to stick to the perfectly ****** drama we’ve grown to love, so will the fictional Everlasting.

“I love you. You know that, right?” Rachel says to Quinn. “I love you, too ... ******,” Quinn answers. This is as close to “I do” as we’re gonna get. And if by now you’re not on Team Quachel (I made that up, you’re welcome), you’ve been watching a totally different show.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses
Attempt to shine
     flickering figurative klieg light
with the help of hyperbole
     on poverty wrought
debutante material, this predicated
     on my own unbiased thought
initially related during
     my early boyhood,

     how many countless
     bachelor beaus sought
to pledge their troth,
     who hailed (strictly
     for purposes of this poem)
     from Pennsauken,
     Perth Amboy, Penobscot,

but thee essential truth ought
to be gleaned (lodged
     as like some precious gem
within geode, qua Harriet Kuritsky,
     who oft times recounted her
     personal anecdotal information)

underlying veritable truth, I allude
means to underscore
     how thine late mum
     as the "baby" of her family
     wore mantle of exclusive favoritism,
     sans donning beautiful clothes
     perfectly cared for,
     coiffed, and curled hair

     (think Shirley Temple)
     as her older sisters brewed
festered, and steeped with jealousy,
     asper me mother receiving
     lion's share of blatant favoritism
all the while said long since
     deceased maternal aunts got exclude
did from requisite

     (shut heard textbook case) maternal love,
     hence within their cerebral hood
     incubated, evolved, and flourished
     emotional disease affliction
     with changeable mood

and thee Aunt Ruth oblivious,
     while pacing hallway in the ****
whereat verbally abuse sent
     both aunts to mental institution
insanity didst the
     ultimate discordant prelude

resulting viz lifetime
     of baleful, hateful, shameful,
     and worthless venom got spewed,
hence no surprise
     rabid mailer daemons
     courted, thus psychosis easily wooed.
ExulSolus Apr 2015
(Extra characters: Friend 1  Friend 2 )
"A chat about who people like?"
It's not something like that!
But actually I'm interested, and want to hear about it,
It  sets my heart fluttering!

The reason is really simple,
I'm plagued by this awkward shyness,
So I'll just be watching from behind.

Though surely I've been kindled with the idea of love,
I actually haven't fallen in love with anyone yet.
Just having fun with my friends, A "bachelorette"(lol)
Who just smiles and dodges the question...

It's totally fine like this! 'Thud'

Falling in love and stuff, when it happens to someone,
Naturally that envious, jealous feeling rises up.
Teach me the charm, that will set love in motion!
I must look like a huge dummy...

"Eh? a soccer ball?"
"Hey what's that? It looks fun!"
"It's just what guys do right?"
We burst out in laughter.

Saying "Good morning, you got some bed hair."
That boy from my class, I'm totally shocked!
It was the first time he talked to me,
And it's just so embarrassing!

With my everyday being a bit boring,
Having milk, the two stars and a supernova,
They were having a dream.

Suppose one day if I started going out with someone,
It'd be nice walking home hand in hand...
"It's a somewhat embarrassing dream..."
"I know..." Just talking to myself,
Someday, surely...

Being jealous, being made to feel that way,
All girls experience stuff like that.
These totally normal kinds of emotions,

I'll surely have them too...

"I have something I want to tell you,"
"Later after school, at 4:10 pm in this classroom right here."
Glancing at me during just our second conversation,
Why won't my heart stop beating like crazy?

I can't look at him!

You know, just supposing, if this was a confession...
I'm all stuck thinking,
About what I should say.

If that kind of thing is said...

Aahh...
"I'm just so nervous!"
Special thanks to Yakimochi no Kotae another story and Honeyworks
Peace!
Harsh Jan 2013
Tonight, my snowed in heart has frozen.
It's numb, lost and broken.
With minutes left, yet no one to call,
this bachelorette lifestyle has taken its toll.
Search for greener pastures loses its charms,
on nights like this when the bed is cold.
Staring at a picture of a stranger,
I can simply sense the danger,
of rushing into a compromise,
by settling for my parents' choice,
of whom I should spend the rest of my life,
and all I can do is.... sigh.
Alcohol, an ideal solution,
but my room is painstakingly dry.
Several lighters lying around, but not a single cigarettes,
I could just cry.
Reminiscing a walk in town,
where commercialism attempts to sell love,
tying the end of Christmas to the start of Valentines,
and why I cannot afford any of the above.
Having gone astray,
losing my right to pray,
noticing how when they stay,
I end up walking away,
makes me suspect a divine intervention,
threatening a life of damnation,
with no means of escape,
because it's too late.
I'm in critical need of a saviour,
a hero, a warrior,
to feed my patriarchal upbringing,
to be that **** Prince Charming.
Enough good looks,
to keep me hooked,
and anaesthetize my heart,
for the inevitable ripping apart.
Wit enough to hypnotize my brain,
so the pain won't stop me from loving again,
and yes, that is what I want to do,
until this life is through.
My snowed in heart could do with some warmth,
someone, light a fire, soon...
This poem is the sole property of me and cannot be copied or used without permission. [Copyright G.H. Rodrigo 19/01/2013]
Bec Jul 2014
Some people were naturally graceful
She was not
But
She taught herself how to be;
She taught herself the powers of
intimidation by ****** tension,
gracefulness,
and how to look like an iceberg was harboring your heart at all hours of the day
She taught herself how to
flare her nostrils and
elongate her eyes to where they scared the living **** out of you
but turned you on just as well
She taught herself how to
steal hearts and
break necks and
fill eyes with lust
She taught herself how to look like a ******* bat straight out of hell
but god forbid
that she teach herself how to love
She was a glorified bachelorette,
a dignified eye catcher;
And if anyone could say no to a diamond ring
and a promise of forever,
She could;
And that scared him more than the prospect of ***
with one woman
for the rest of his life
Sarina Apr 2013
Here, I am interrupted by being the only woman in the room –
the seventeen year old woman in a lace gown
that strays from her kneecaps, untouched but by air
and launching in the breeze for twenty sets of interested eyes.

Give me their heads on a platter
so that no one will ever finish watching me waltz.
I am a bachelorette, but taken by all these mouths that tell me
who else I am or could be, supposed to be in this ether.

Heel, he says. I am a dog. Roll onto your back. I am his *****.
But we shed our skin like snakes in a corner no one sees.
Silence Screamz Aug 2016
You left me like chocolate raindrops hitting a river of mud flowing through a Saint Valentine's Day *******.

You left me like the last surviving, half naked girl running through the forest, during a 1980's
Friday the 13th movie marathon.

You left me like the last piece of pizza, that no one eats, that remains in the open box, that sits on the coffee table all night, after a college kegger fest.

You left me like when your wife leaves her wedding ring on her nightstand, while she goes out to her best friend's Bachelorette party at a strip joint.

You left me like the only kid in your class that never got picked for a game of kickball during noon recess in elementary school.

You left me like the backwash in the bottom of soda can as you offer me a drink, knowing there were no more sodas left in the fridge.

You left me like you do all the crumbs you leave in a nearly empty, wrinkled bag of chips after you were playing World of Warcraft for 16 hours.

You left me like the last match in book of matches as we try to start a fire during a family camping trip, then it starts to rain.

You left me like you did your last boyfriend with a long text that was meant for me, but you actually sent it to my mom.

You left me like the last petal on a thorny rose bush that clinges onto it's last thread to the branch that holds it, during a severe thunderstorm.

You left me like ... one second.

(Scratching my head)

Pause, never mind.

Thank God, You are Gone!!
Just a fun little quip
Leigh Marie Mar 2016
I am twenty years old
I don’t sing in the shower,
But I always try to harmonize in the car

My waterbottle is my favorite accessory
I still wear youth large clothes,
And steal from my mom’s closet

I like to wear the color red,
But I usually buy things that are blue, and my favorite color is purple
My thoughts and my actions often don’t match up

I never pay attention in class,
and sometimes focus more on IMDB
than the movie in front of me

I always run out of free article reads online,
but have a tough time reading body language

I used to be vegetarian
I don’t eat salmon
And I am pretty sure ranch dressing goes with everything

I like snapchat
But the idea of big brother scares me
Perhaps its because I am an only child

My hands are always dancing
And my shoes are always laced up to run

I always talking about growing up
As if my future is not already knocking on my door

I don’t think its fair that  we don’t have enough time to be everyone we’d wish to be
That we only get one lifetime to figure it out

I want to be a professional dancer who acts on the side and is a nurse by night
I want to travel the world, but also have a picket fence house
To be a bachelorette for life, but have a family waiting at home

I have been blessed with good health
But I’m not convinced that there isn’t a disease hiding in my abdomen

I have good grades
But somehow I have a hard time making sense of everyday life
I wish I knew what it felt like to be friends with me

But still, I don’t like myself very much
And I don’t like other people either
Or maybe other people don’t like me

I used to love the color gray
Perhaps because I was trying to find comfort in the uncertainty
Or I couldn’t decide whether light or dark made me feel at home

I believe in Sunday mornings,
And rainy days

An overcast sky makes me feel more alive
But if you ask me why,
I probably would not have an answer

I don’t like having my picture taken,
Though always smile when I’m taking someone else’s

I am afraid of tomorrow,
And yesterday’s should haves,
Scare me

I am not very good with a GPS
But being lost never worries me
Except for that one time,
In the woods,
Alone

Probably because being alone feels infinite
And being together feels fleeting
I treasure my alone time, but am
Always missing
You

I’m not sure if this is all worth it,
But for what its worth,
It just might be
Some of my favorite poems are just describing oneself. I find them to be an excellent practice of reflection, and a challenge to write because of listing the carefully chosen facts
Anjelica Nov 2017
Being a girl is hard
But being a black girl...
Let me tell you about being a black girl
Leave Out
Twist
Frontal
Perm
Pick your poison
"Unprofessional"
Or falling for " European Beauty Standards"

" Why are you so quiet?"
Do you expect me to be aggressive
And snap my fingers in an A-Z formation

Light Skin is the best skin
Or so they say
I'm jealous of my brother, for his caramel skin
Oh what I'd do for that caramel skin

You think that's the worst of it but have you see ****?
Cute girl makes love to -insert famous **** star here

Ebony b-itch gets banged till she squirts

Which would you rather watch?

If you ever turned on a TV you'd see reality shows with the perfect blue eyed blond hair cast and the one black kid who doesn't get enough attention

Ever since Rachel was the Bachelorette I too prayed one day I'll find the man of my dreams

Have you ever had a crush on someone and ever think if they even like girls your skin color?

Being a girl is hard
But being a black girl
Oh let me tell you about being a black girl
A spew of thought about being a black girl in todays society not feeling "good enough" or loved.
Jamie F Nugent Apr 2016
Famous in War,
Famous in Bloodshed,
Famous in Heartbreak.

Stitch my scars,
Feel my heart sink,
Watch me fall and
Drown in memories.

How do you remember me?
Is it how I remember you?
The way the room lit up,
When you entered it.

Bright as a summer's day,
Bright as a winter's city night,
Christmas lights,
Covered in snow.

Never lacking in lustier,
Inseparable frozen hands,
Not wanting to let go,
Never wanting to give in.

That burn I get,
In the back of my throat,
From licking your flame.

I still see you the same way,
But in different places,
The bachelorette who
Drives past in her car,
In my opposite direction.

For a short moment in those
Shy girls, who glance out at life,
Through the same big,
Thick-rimmed glasses.

In the songs we once song
To one another,
All seeming like
A lifetime ago.

I hope that these days,
You are overjoyed,
Never again
To be so destroyed.

Destroyed by War,
Destroyed by Bloodshed,
Destroyed by Heartbreak.

- Jamie F. Nugent
Mike Hentges Jan 2018
We stand in line for a delayed plane airport stale oxygen recycled through our mouths. This is work.
“It’s gonna be fun to watch.”
We’re popcorn on the sidelines. Your sorrow is our television and soon we will fly to vegas. Because our white ***** make us bulletproof. Make us able to say things like “It’s gonna be fun to watch.” Instead of saying things like “I’m scared.” And “I can’t believe this is happening.”
The conversation continues. This is work.
“Those females sure do have a way about them don’t they?”
I wonder myself a coward. Does the upstart stand over the 60 year old? He’s a short man.
“Did you see that one?”
They’re talking about *****.
“Oh how could I miss it? He’s helping me find my wife, you know?”
What is the proper response to a sexist wink? I awkwardly smile. This is work.
Plane boards.
Takeoff.
Landing.
Slot machines in the airports.
Lights.
Smoke.
Decadence. I’ve never been. The neon hits me like stargazing. Walking alone seems to be more palpable to my tastes than company. There’s strippers on the sidewalk. One tries to spank me. When you walk back to your Paris themed hotel at 2 in the morning, everyone wants you to go to the *******. My hotel room is spacious. ******* is odd when you’re surrounded by ***.

Time rolls into the work event I’m in Vegas for, like limousines and unenthusiastic drummers strapped to the backs of moving advertisements. It’s a social event. I’m supposed to play nice with my customers. Make them happy so they give me more money. I’m paraphrasing.
One of my customers is talking to one of his customers. The guy is around 85. He notes on how young I look. Says that I can use this to my advantage with the ladies. Oh sorry. I’m paraphrasing again. What he actually said was:
“Never get married. When I was 40 I caught ***** like you wouldn’t believe. I’d find a 23 year old and toss her away for someone younger.”
Time rolls into overpriced drinks walking hand in hand with gambling and stories of conquest
Testosterone
Unrest
Like champions of our pants we are gladiators in the absence of romance. The game of one-up-man-ship, each story told and stacked like the cards slapping down on the tables around us.

“There was a 99.9% chance I was going to bang this chick. She like, had her hand on my leg. I had my arm around her. And I was the hero of the night because I had gotten a bachelorette party over.”
“Oh yeah, she’s hot.” “ Your wife is ******* standing right there, dude.”
“You know if things are wrong at the house cause my wife keeps me up aaaaalllll night. Talk talk talk talk.”
He moves his hands like lobster claws to mimic his wife’s mouth.  I feel my awkward smile crack across my face again. I pay $10 for a watered down drink. I talk to a girl who doesn’t want to talk to me. She leaves.
“You strike out or something?”
When you walk back to your Paris themed hotel at 4 in the morning, everyone wants to ******* in exchange for your wallet.

“Where are you going? You ever had black *****?”

My hotel room is spacious.
It’s odd to feel alone when company can be paid for. And as I lie naked in my bed I wonder what it would be like to have *** with a *******. I feel failure creeping at the floor, climbing the sheets that tell me I’m in the city of sin, so why am I not sinning?
Winning.
“You strike out or something?”

As men we are taught to be strong and that we don’t need anyone
Wolves
This is work
(but I must have missed the ******* lesson)

Because it seems I need someone. More than the soft cheek kiss of innocence lost. I want the feeling of seeing old people hold hands. The hard glare of the no judgement mirror. It’s like *** over *******, but there is silence in the nothing and if you listen closely you can hear the screaming drool between each ***** syllable. I’m tired of – **** it.
Let’s keep this a secret. Don’t want my man card revoked.
Have you ever felt like you could die and no one would give a ****?
A hangover morning pours overpriced coffee into our stale eyes. It seems the strength has waned
Tunes have changed
And the act is becoming hard to keep up. If you look at the corners of their eyes you can see they miss their wives and warn of men like themselves to their daughters.
But that doesn’t make for good stories, does it?
“I’m ready to leave”
“I can’t say I’m a fan of Vegas”
“I hate this town.”
Even wolves travel in packs and I wonder if some consider the proper response to a sexist wink to be an awkward story.
A company too exhausted, from dripping money and LED seduction to wonder if society knows the size of all our tiny penises.
“I’m tired of people assuming that just because I make a decent amount of money that I’m a republican.”
What?
“Oh I hate Trump. He’s a monster.”
We’re getting somewhere.
“You ever motorboated *******?”
Aaaaaaaaaaaand we’re back.
Àŧùl Apr 2021
If you have any such bachelorette in sight,
Do inform me. I am a straight man.
I want to get married asap,
No restrictions on age, religion or creed.
Just want an in-law family, which is vegetarian.
+918950932456
Robin Carretti May 2018
She caught
you fair and
Square
The never_
((Singlehanded))
(Jingle ****-pit landed)

The napkin
crossed legs
Married
her favorite drinks

((Uncrossed or divorced))
Bachelorette
Never drink
and ride her
Corvette

50 unlisted shades
green drinks
Spiked
Too envy
_
*
Personality can win
One *** single
Emmy
So Cool and collected
He's so hot saturated

Her College Humor
Mom got ulcers
Such a bust of
tumors

Bring on the
Buzz Feed
Amazingly enough
Drinks are our
Drug need

Single she had ti
Married to regret it
Amaretto  went
Solo
Card game
Played upon like the
City Ghetto
In your mouth
Smirnoff
__Off the record
The turn-off
He tried to win her
Such Sweet nuts
The olives Italian
Hey Juice horse
Stallion
The
Gala Ha

Ha baba
Shrimp and sheep
Pretzels lime twist
This is NY
we never sleep
Dogs Yen of Yorkie
Liqueur lime
his crime
Gala Forgie
Quicker and
City slicker
One drink
to pick Fergie

Big Daiquiri
Hot stuff singer
Never a
solitaire game
He got stiff
Frangelico
Of the Pinnacle
The ***** Princess
Lost her dress
Playing Russian
Roulette
Magically Mike
Came all over
Collette imaginable

His drink was
the hottest rated

Never by one
Bad drink
Sip to your drinks
Gala party tricks
Comedy of party drinks The gala whether we are single or married stir you glasses not the time to think
Ansley Popov Sep 2015
I'm not sure why I'm staying here
You aren't my home
I know my home,
I've been planning it since i was a child,
Decorations in my mind like a bachelorette's Pinterest
You could never be my home
regina Feb 2016
i’ve been sick a lot this year.  like, little kid sick.  with the kind of cough that only a sick little kid would have.  

and it’s 2016 and i’m congested in my infested sad grad bachelorette pad.  and if i’ve taught myself anything, it’s how to take care of myself.  if that’s what too much netflix and not enough water means then i’m a ******* doctor.  

my hair is unwashed and my face is about twelve difference colors.  and i conclude that yes, i am in fact too gross for groceries.  

so today i don’t think i have any tools to collect the courage to talk to the cute boy at the deli even though i’m vegetarian so perhaps it’s not meant to be.

and it’s hot in here.  the taste in my mouth is familiar, and i close my eyes trying to place it.  through the ringing in my ears at the bathroom sink, i can hear 1996 and you’re there on the phone

and i’m on the couch and you’re not checking on me but you’re balancing your checkbook.  tom brokaw on nbc is telling me everything that’s wrong with the world but i hear you laughing and that tells me everything is right.  

and the sourness in my stomach makes me think of the suspense of a summer storm.  and before tom holden on wkbn turns it over to weather, you tell me that it’s going to rain because the leaves are turning over.  and you turned off the tv and you turned on the radio and you lit a cigarette and even though you were out of your suit and in your gym shorts, you looked like the most learned man in the world.

and i open my eyes and i look in the mirror and there you are, staring back at me.  it’s even more glaring when i’m tired.  you cant make eye contact with me in person anymore but you can't beat the mirror.  at least with the magic of a mascara wand i can see the parts of you i want to see.

my stomach turns a little more at the thought of how many times the world has turned since 1996.

whenever it rains in the summer.  or i find a picture of you laughing.  or chicago comes on the radio, i forget everything you’ve ever done.  and you’re the person i want to be again.
for my children
Phoebe Oct 2020
There’s a story about Calypso or maybe it’s a legend
or maybe it’s religion

Daughter of a Titan, seducer of a hero
Maybe she was actually the hero

Must it always be about princesses and dragons, girls and ogres?

Anyway, we’re the dragons and the princesses tonight
Summer whites instead of white
wedding gowns-

There’s a bachelorette party a few tables down and the bride looks uncomfortably close to my age

The four of us, the dragon girls, around the table

There’s a story about sisterhood
or maybe it’s a legend
or maybe it’s religion

Daughters of regular men and students of 4 different subjects, citizens of three different countries between us

Sounds like a bad bar joke: a Romanian, two Americans, and a Chinese citizen walk into a restaurant on a Saturday night...

We laugh at ourselves before the punch line hits (and these young women actually liked themselves!)

When you’re the princess, ogre, dragon, girl
When you’re the prize, villain, hero
you get to have all the fun. That’s the secret to all this, I think: have all the fun you can

Have all you can. Have all of it. Be all of it. Complex human beings with complexes of our own behind our eyes- we laugh

The bachelorette party orders more alcohol

China and Romania plan their trip to Greece for spring break over
the side salads and
COVID-19 travel restrictions
Americans try their best to help navigate the travel website

Imagine this: history happens and we live through it anyway.

We plan through it anyway.

Once upon a time, Calypso trapped Odysseus.

That’s the way the story goes, anyway, but every dragon knows
men only come to the lair looking for a prize
he must not have been expecting something that looked like us
he must not have been expecting the dragon to be the prize
Devin Ortiz Jan 2018
I am walking, with my father.
To what he assumes will be a reconciliation.
I entertain the idea with insincerity.
I'll not walk down that fool's road again.

I see a group of women, a bachelorette party.
One approaches, she asks who will I be for the night.
She says she'll be someone or another.
I think about this, whats the harm in being lost in otherness.
But for the moment I must go, I'm off to a party.

I'm in a stadium, alone at first, then the rows fill.
Friends, loved ones, circled around the stage.
My friend, my brother is next to me, then is front and center.
He announces the celebration, gathering here for a friend.
Its happy, we reminiscence, I embrace it for the moment.
Sadness, I know is on the horizon.

I see it clearly, I know how a story goes.
Another friend, belly full of liquor stumbles home.
He draws a hot bath, as death prepares to takes its grips.
I feel this, I feel him slip, I feel him begin to drown.
I'm coming, but not fast enough, I'll arrive and he'll be dead.

But, there's a chance, through will, I become him.
With every ounce of drunken strength I pull us out of death.
We catch our breath, crawling for the bed, until I arrive in flesh.
There are dogs all over his place, and a hell hound, chained.
He wore a devil's mask and knew me to be a false man.
Just in time, I barge through the door and catch my friend in rest.
Spared for the time being, for doom is coming.

I leave him in his slumber, returning to the darkening skies.
I see a group of fallen youth, a loyal band of thieves.
They run and taunt the night, the disillusion of innocence.
I feel I must warn them, but time and words have escaped me.
Reality sets in, in the form a a car screeching, peeling away.
I know too well whats to come, instinctively, I run.
White light, red-orange fire, kaboom.

I come to, choking on the blackened ash filling the air.
I see charred bodies of those far less lucky than me.
I wonder how I am alive, but I know better, its rotten.
I crawl through the destruction, and try to regain myself.

Months go by, and again and again the bombers come.
At first, I feel they're hunting me, but they must know I live.
That such methods to thwart me are ineffective.
But that mustn't be the case, no it must not be at all.

And in truth I know this, the chase in this direction is obvious.
I realize it the reverse is true,  I am drawn to the chaos.
I go where death is sure to come, even in my undying.
I wake up, with that mystery in mind.
I hate the realism in such dreams.
I hate I will never know why.
I hate that this is the end.
All boozed up on Chardonnay,
   swapping virginity lost stories
   drinking from ***** straws and
   holding ****** as scepters while
   ropes of ***** crown our heads.
   We puke and cry and wear our
   hideous bridesmaid's dresses at
   the wedding and catch the bouquet
   and send the married couple off to
   a honeymoon in the ****** Islands.
Jeffrey Robinson Nov 2019
Young and in love,               
she was everything I               
wanted and more. We               
even had matching tattoos               
to prove it.                 
                
Her parents               
thought our love written               
in permanent ink                 
was a serious issue, but                 
little did I know this               
ink would turn into nothing more         than scar tissue. Seeing                 
a wild night turn bad, we               
wish she would have turned               
away and ran.                 
                
But this is where it all began.                 
                
Engaged on a Friday night,   
her friends wanted to
do something special for her bachelorette   
party.         
        
They leave for Italy, and     
I'm overwhelmed with fear,               
but her best friend puts me at ease,       for I know her intentions are                 
innocent and sincere.                 
                
At a bar, everybody is soaking               
in the joy, laughing, and having            a good time.                 
                
But when sweaty Latino dudes climb   into the picture, everyone                 
starts to separate. She's got a bad           feeling about this.                 
                
The dude next to her               
is getting a little touchy               
feely, and she can sense               
trouble, on account he will not               
get out of her personal bubble.                   
He offers her drinks, and               
she thinks...               
                
"Why not? It's harmless, right?"               
                
Little does she know that the               
dude buying her this drink is               
totally insane, and when               
she passes out, he's going to               
take her home               
and run a train.                 
                
8 Latinos, 4 blacks,               
and two whites each               
have their five minutes.                 
                
Naked and battered,                 
she now lies                 
helplessly shattered.                 
                
She may have survived,               
but during that night                 
a piece of her had died.                                
Not wanting to be touched,  and not wanting to be seen, she can't stand the sight of her being a recluse. 
             
So she takes a bottle of pills               
and is found hanging from             
a noose.
I comfortably position
     derriere with pride
(all cheekiness *** side)
lightly seat dated, inside
ideally with bifocals removed,
     recalling "Plato's allegory of the caves,"
     where everything espied
a blur, more so (from mine

     severe myopia) conjures
     dark shadows flickr ring across,
     the edge of night - stride
rite across dreamy field of vision,
     no matter (despite)
     superfluous squinting briefly applied
across webbed whirled wide
universe till ocular orbs

     instagram, snapchat, and
     shutterfly, lids slowly slide
shut, whence immediately
    dark doth light divide
consummate relaxed mindset
     frame imbued, and imbibed,
where gentle existential
     awareness dost glide

     ever so nonchalantly,
     my consciousness of self I abide
faintly effortlessly breathing n'er decide
ding nor discriminating spontaneous
     notions nothing intruding denied,
     flitting to and fro, hither and yon
     of each inhalation and exhalation,
     then, aye approximate,

     I imagine an analog clock
     some few minutes elapse,
     when minute hand silently sweeps,
     re: completing micro orbitz ride
ding tiny armature nsync as thought

     processes soundlessly, mindlessly,
     and independently elide
into mild trance send dint altered state
     akin subtle difference,
     where engaged bachelorette
     becomes a bartered, bettered,
     and buttered bride
likewise with meditation disembodied self
     ascends cerebral cortex
      figuratively lapping - sea ming lee

     asper gentle timeless tide
buoyed by bobbing
     mantra setting placidity
     wordlessly teasing, massaging, and
     evoking enchanting ecstasy
     motioned via film meant invisible guide.
Delton Peele Oct 2022
You'll have to forgive me...
Or not !?!
Its up to you.
I guess it's my sorta ,
Pre apology,
For ...... Normality ....
In reality is a relative term
Encompassing innumerable
Shades and hues  
Within an endless ever expanding spectrum
In a constant state of flux......
Like modeling tuxedos in Bellevue ,
Seen on tv,
Then caught yourself on fire
Working two pairs of nunchucks
Drunk on you're parents patio
Cause their friends wanted a show.   ?
Next day did a bachelorette party
Got attacked by two cougars...
And held down while the rest of the pack did tequila shots off me...
Ok    that  was actually a good night .....
Weird ..... But good .  
Anyways I guess what I'm trying to say is
This....
You are a star
You are far more and greater than even you can imagine you are ..
Never let anyone tell you what or who you are ....
Don't accept the limits people try to put on you...
You be you ....
Catfish? (That's an attempt at humour... Gaaabeesh?
Er... Gabish .... Uhm capisce?)
K **** it so I'm not funny
..... Heh heh ... Ahhhh  uuh emm
I know you ....
People are so hung up and jealous  ...
They can't see" you" the way you do ,
Not the real you!
Because the ones who do.......
are small compared to you .
And so they will be-little you.
to make themselves look better than you..
Don't trip on haters who run under you. k?
You are bigger than that.
Right ?
You are not bitter you are better.
They will look like the fool
Be cool !be you !
The magic is in you
You know it's true
The only limits
Can only be set and broke by
.. you!
¹qqq1q

— The End —