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Kenna Nov 2012
I've got a surprise.
It's in my hand.
I'm holding it.
Want to see?

Grumpy?
Mad?
******?
******-up?

Yes
Yes
Yes
Yes

Why?

Everything.
This room makes me cry.
Your eyes make me scream.
This situation makes me yell.
You face makes me sob.

You don't understand.
I don't understand.
Oh, well
Just keep giving me hell.
Oh, well
Doesn't matter.

Not like I care.
Not like I asked anything from you.
Not like I don't need anything back.
Not like I sat and listented and solved all your problems and never once talked about myself.
Not like I ever helped you.
Or like I have problems too.

I'm afraid I haven't paid the title a proper homage.
Oh well,
I can't to anything right
anymore.
I honestly am useless, this is the worst poem in the world. I'm just so ANGRY

******* by Kenna is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Christy Gee Sep 2011
“Just this once,” you said.
I couldn’t wrap it around my head.
Your promise replayed and replayed:
“Those were my high school days
I’m done now
I’ll show you how
I’ll show you my grades
I promise you A’s
Oncology, psychology, Tour de France,
I wasted it last year, so now’s my chance.
I ****** up so badly
I love you so madly
I’ll prove to the world, to myself, and to you,
That with every vow I take I know I’ll come through.”

If you were so set on your integrity,
Why did you become the opposite of what you said you’d be?
Why did you say “I’ll be over at ten,”
Wait for my worried text at twelve, to which you said:
“Oh about that…yeah um, I hoped you’d forget.”

My list of why’s will always haunt me.
Why was everything you said so taunting?
Why did you always threaten to break up,
When all I needed was for you to hurry up?
30 minutes late? No worries, no big deal,
But after four hours of course I’d lose my chill.
I felt like an idiot, buns fused to the couch.
As time passed by, I became a ****** grouch.
You were out with your friends, unconcerned about me
Or the fact that you said you would be here at three.
Well, three became four, then five, six, and seven,
And you’d leave me to return to your friends at eleven.
“You’re tired of waiting for me? Keep yourself busy.
Use your creativity.
I won’t make time for you, that’s how it will be,
This is who I am, I dgaf, take me or leave.
'Good morning' and 'goodnight' are utter *******.
That’s not you and me, that’s Judy and Cliff.
You’re too **** sensitive, toughen up, be a man.”
But how can I when you always told me I can’t?

You were my *******, marijuana,
The more you’d say go away the more I’d want ya.
I got hooked to the feeling of having you around,
And now that you’re gone I always feel down.
But I slap my mouth shut before I can say,
“I miss you so dearly, oh please won’t you stay?!”
I’m an ex-addict, every time I want you back,
I remind myself you’re deceiving as a pipe full of crack.
I know you were bad to me,
but horribly addicting.


“Shut up now before I really get angry.
And when I get mad, I’m scary, trust me.”
I always shut up, I never persisted,
Because to every concern I expressed, you resisted.
I allowed you to threaten me, scared to see when
I awoke your dormant beast from within.


You had purple pants that I didn’t like,
I’d playfully say, “Don’t wear those tonight!”
One day in line at the DMV,
you reminded me my favorite shoes “are ******* disgusting.”
You always made sure to insult my attire,
But believe it or not, I’ve been told I inspire.
“Look at my two-hundred dollar French jeans,
How ****, son, I’m so ******* clean.
Now look at you in your thrift store outfit,
Compared to great me, humble you look like ****.”

I simultaneously felt like your mother
and your punching bag of a little brother.


Your words were the cookies to my Teflon-free brain,
I tried to unstick them; they drove me insane.
Hit after hit, after hit, after hit,
Your words were so spiteful,
Of my self I felt jipped.

I was the naïve fish that bit your line,
Of “You know I’m a good guy, so just stop crying.”
My tears would dry and I would feel fine,
But there was always an inkling in the back of my mind:
"This isn’t right, I don’t deserve this treatment,
I love him, I do, so why do I feel such resentment?"

You’d continue to reel me in with your words,
“I love you so much, Christy, of that I’m sure.
I love you more now than ever before.”

...


So tell me, sir, why, when I entered the door,
Just a few days after July twenty-fourth,
I opened my laptop to see on the internet
“Lu Rivas is single,”a few likes, and a comment?

Was this a joke? It had to be.
Considering just days before, you cried to me.
You cried to me? Or did you lie to me?
Which you did you expect me to believe?
The one who said “I used to do drugs,
Because of my horrible cheating first love,
I used to smoke ****
‘cause I couldn’t stand me.”
Or the one who got high two hours after,
Saying sobriety was a long-gone chapter?

The one who said “I’m gonna marry you one day,”
Or the one who said “This love **** is so ******* gay”?

The one who said, “We have all summer to hang,”
Or the one who said “Summer’s Wahb time, get over me, dang.”

The one who said “I’m gonna start training,
Doing well in school, cuddle you when it’s raining,”
Or the one who dropped classes, gave up himself,
To be with his friends and no one else?


“I love you because you’re so different”
Became “You’re too weird, you’re not liked by my friends.”

Were you the Lu who said “I’m in love with you,”
Or the one who said “That’s not true,
I have no feelings for you.”

It wasn't the fact that you liked to ****,
It was the fact that your every promise you broke.

I couldn’t believe a word you said,
My brain in a dizzied daze in my head,
Because the opposite would be acted upon;
My brain felt dead;
Constantly translating contradictory definitions
Apparently our dictionaries had opposing renditions.


“I keep you around because you care for me genuinely”
Became “Let me breathe, I don’t want you around me!
I don’t give a **** about you or your interests,
And I haven’t since day one, please understand this.”


Laziness, impatience, irresponsibility,
Every one of your problems was my liability.


You might be doing well now; I’ve no way of knowing,
But I see that your happiness keeps your smile still glowing.
Just thinking about your smile made mine grow, too.
But to you, it was an inconvenience to share a laugh or two.

I never changed who I was,
Or pleased my friends’ desires
While you slowly wanted to get higher and higher.
I wasn’t enough anymore,
Just a hassle and a bore.

I knew I was being naïve and immature,
So shame on me for believing your now-transparent words.
You were so authentic, your words were opaque.
Now I see right through them, all of them; fake.
Is fake too harsh of a word to use?
I don’t think so, I’m the one you used.
I gave you what you wanted, and at first, you did too.
But as time progressed, we weren’t one, but two.

Oh, and I must have forgotten to mention,
How you never really got over that girlfriend.
You used me to fill in the hole that she left,
Until you realized that I wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t a *****, didn’t boss you around,
She barked at you constantly and you didn’t make a sound.
But you left me the week after
You started to reconnect with her.
Just a coincidence? I highly doubt it.
You missed the girl who made you her *****.
Might I even bring up how she cheated on you,
To make you stay, should I have been unfaithful, too?

I lost you to popularity, to the glamour of high school,
You hang on by the skin of your teeth to stay cool.
Partying, not caring, big ticket items.
Days I heard stories of, I knew you weren’t over them.
"Those were the days, God that was great,
Green crack, ecstasy, alcohol poisoning."

You steered clear of the man I fell in love with,
And returned to the 16-year-old kid I felt no connection with.

"I’m gonna go back now, return to my glory,
If I do something to hurt you, I won’t say I'm sorry.
I know I was good when I met you,
But that person I was is now gone,
The clean me was so ******* boring
I will not change me for anyone.
I lost who I was, but now I am found,
Go find someone else, go fetch a rebound."


So if you hate me now, I couldn’t care less,
Just remind yourself that I gave you my best.
Family parties meant I thought you were real,
I wouldn’t have taken you if I knew you’d repeal.

You used to be so bright, so effervescent
As time went on you seemed so disconnected.
Impatient and harsh, rude and abrasive,
I couldn’t please you.
Your “love” was evasive.

You steered so clear of the you that I met,
Not leaving you is my biggest regret.
I wish we could turn the clock back and switch places,
So you could see how hard it is to feel sad with happy faces.

Because the eggs I made you were always cooked wrong,
Understanding things took me too long,
My clothes were too cheap,
My face was too different,
I wasn’t your happiness,
I was your ailment.

I need liberation from feeling so down,
To remove this heartache I wear as a crown.
But I’ll try to remove this gilded hat,
'cause you dumped me on Facebook,
And that is that.
Amour de Monet May 2014
I need to see more, love more, hate more, be broken more, have my soul ripped out, and then ripped from wherever it was tossed to, I need to mourn, and become tired, I need to shine and outshine until the light is blinding, I need to explore and feel and think and breathe just a little deeper a little more effortlessly a little more passion driven and full blooded, I need to be more head strong and ******, I need to be old and young and all the in between, I need to live and die and be reborn, and read, read everything front to back and cover to cover, in every language. In every color, I need to listen and absorb, until life and death are all in one, until my ears bleed and my bones are brittle, until my **** is worn and my heart torn and sewn so many times it’s a solid rock of scars, I need to be everything good bad beautiful devilish and pure…so I can be a better writer.
Audrey Jul 2014
There we were.
A dozen and a half middle-class white kids from Chelsea, Michigan
Who had convinced our parents to pay $175 to let us go down to Chicago and help homeless people in the name of God.
There we were.
Including the tall, gangly kid who had never been out Michigan and who held
His backpack in front of him as if he
Thought it might make a good weapon,
The ****** girl who was only there because her mom ran the church office,
And me, there because I honestly had nothing better to do over spring break
And I thought it might look good on a college application someday.

The soup kitchen was a place I would have never eaten uin a million years.
The ceilings were low, too low, oppressing the already oppressed with their
Chip board panels and bright, sterile lighting,
Table of sticky Formica that had clearly seen better days  
Surrounded by hard, plastic mismatched chairs, and
The food was no better,
Number 10 cans of dreariness and shame and just-one-more-day-til-I-can-get-a-job.
We were instructed to sit at a table where we didn't know anybody.
The gangly boy held his backpack on his lap as he sat with a group of grey-haired old men reminiscing about having
A great life, a good life, a better life, a not-terrible life, a life at all.
****** girl sat at a table with a collection of ***** children, and was instantaneously on her phone.
And I went to a table with a middle-aged black woman with a little boy.
I sat down.
The plastic chair dug into the backs of my thighs and the lighting units hummed and flickered like a
Hoard of discontented bees.
The woman looked at me, then at the bowl of soup, grey-brown with un-identified meat.
She was overweight, and she smelled. I almost choked on the
Scent of body odor and oil, cigarettes, alcohol, city streets, homelessness, despair.
She looked at me again.
My name is Josie Gonzalez.
I know that sounds Mexican but I ain't no Hispanic, she said.  
She went back to eating.
Silence.
Uncomfortable, awkward.
Silence.
I looked at her little boy, joyous, handsome, and
She looked too,
And I have never seen a person change as much as she did when she looked at her little boy
From a sad, lonely, homeless woman she became the proudest mother in the whole world.
She was the most beautiful person I've ever seen.
Her eyes lit up and I saw that they were the
Prettiest chocolate brown.
She smiled,
And far from noticing the stained, yellowed tombstones of her teeth
I saw how wide and honest that smile seemed.
I smiled too, I couldn't help it and suddenly
I felt like I'd known her my entire life.
We are all human. We will at one point all be
Homeless, lost, lovelorn, broken, or confused,
Stranded in a bad place with almost no options.
So be forgiving.
Share a meal, share a hug, share a smile.
Share hope, share love.
Share life.
Here we are.
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
I want what you have
I want your dreams; the ones that scare you shitless
I want your secrets; the ones you can’t share with anyone
I want the thoughts that keep you awake at night; the ones that excite you
I want the ideas you want to share; the ones you know you never will share

I need what you have
I need your arms around my waist; the arms that will never be there
I need your lips pressed against mine; the lips that mine will never touch
I need your ***** smile smiling at me; the smile that will never look in my direction
I need your stupid ugly khaki jacket around my shoulders; the jacket that will never be near me

I wish that I have what you have
I wish I had your idiotic confidence; the confidence that I will never get back
I wish I had your insanely smart brain; the brain that has put up barriers against me
I wish I had your annoyingly inappropriate jokes; the jokes that you stopped telling me
I wish I had your ability to captivate the world; the captivation you no longer use on me

I yearn for what we could have been
I yearn to have an unconditional love; one that will never break
I yearn to have uncontrollable kisses; ones that we are unable to stop
I yearn to have cheesy promposals; ones that make everyone jealous of us
I yearn for extravagant valentine's day gifts; ones that make me want to scream and cry

You don't want what I have
My dreams; the ones that will never happen
My secrets; the ones that will tear people apart
My thoughts that keep me up at night; the ones that can even terrify me
My ideas that I want to share; the ones that would wreak havoc on everyone

You don’t need what I have
My thick messy hair; the hair that constantly falls in my face
My ***** brown converse; the ones with the laces falling apart
My empty grey eyes; the eyes that stare straight at you watching you ignore me
My annoying voice; the voice that says ****** comments to protect herself from your friends

You don’t wish to have what I have
My brutal honesty; the honesty that burns bridges
My crazy distrust; the distrust that worries my mother
My unbelievable pessimism; the pessimism that causes people to leave
My need to control everyone; the need to control that consumes all of my thoughts

You don’t yearn for what we could have been
You don’t yearn for unconditional love; not with me
You don’t yearn for uncontrollable kisses; but with her
You don’t yearn to give cheesy promposals; you would do anything to be with her
You don’t yearn to give extravagant valentine's day gifts; you would give anything to be with her

No matter how much I want...need...wish...yearn for you
You will always be wanting, needing, wishing, and yearning for her more
She is the pulsing red dot you are moving towards
I am barely more than a blip on your radar.
erich Mar 2013
****** girl, nice woman
***** boy tough guy.
slathered butter toast of rye
i swear that i may die tonight.
Amber Rosborough Jul 2010
I feel like Godzilla in a frilly party dress
Wearing ribbons and flounces while causing distress
Or a jalapeno pepper in a pumpkin pie,
Dangerously spicy and living a lie
spiky and snarly like a cat in a cage,
yet trussed up in garlands that tighten with age
I'm sweet on the outside, I'm feeling quite witchy,
If you've read my poem, you'll say I'm just ******.
Neha D Jun 2014
We've heard of a woman's grace,
And romantic fables of her charm.
But delve beneath the surface,
And stir waters outwardly calm.

A woman, if pleased is divine
And will do plenty to prove her grace.
when angry she'll turn serpentine
And descend like a meteor from space.

She’ll be sarcasm personified,
Every sentence riddled with a taunt.
You’ll be slandered and vilified,
And derided as shabby & gaunt.

When pleased she’ll be friendly and chatty
And lure you to reveal your fears.
But soon she’ll turn vile and catty,
And delight in your failures.

She won't leave a chance to ridicule
And bring up things you’d rather forget.
She will attack with every feminine tool,
And force you to mull and regret.

And when you've had enough of her satire
And try to give her a piece of your mind,
She will breathe out tons of fire,
And to crisp she'll burn your behind.

So don't **** a woman to show
Her ****** and vindictive side
Be a gentleman if you don't want to know
That Far from being Jekyll, she's Mr. Hyde
My girlfriends and I observed, after deep introspection, that we all have a very ****** and vindictive side to us. So one of them challenged me to write about the not so 'graceful' side of a woman. So here it is ;)
Chelsea Corcoran Nov 2011
I am not who you see,
I am me
The Clumsy, dorky, sometimes ******
The one who will try to make you feel
When you cannot feel anymore,
The one that will stand up for you,
When you are limp, on the floor.
The person that will make sure,
Your information is correct.
Sometimes to be a pain in the ****.
The one who will cook, but only if its
For her and another, or more.
But never for herself.
The one that tries to give the best advice,
But never asks for them to listen.
Sometimes she thinks she is male,
For always wanting to be right.
But at the same time, she is female.
Whiny, crabby, always up in your face.
She is indecisive, she doesn’t know half of the time.
Her name is Chelsea.
She is pretty cool.
Brent Kincaid Apr 2016
Many of my poems are snarky
And I know it.
Some things make me ******
And I show it.

Some people are beneath contempt
Puff out their chests, think they’re exempt
But at the bottom of it all, they’re ****.
They count on people at large to be dumb
And deaf and blind to their ugly tricks.
People give up thinking they can fix
The atrocities perpetrated on society.
They get physically sick at the impropriety
And villainy these criminals get by with;
Two tongues in each mouth politicians lie with.

Many of my poems are painful
And I know it.
Some things make me disdainful
And I show it.

I’d perhaps take up haiku poems or calligraphy
If there wasn’t so much ignominy around me.
My trusted representatives are lying to me
And are doing so daily with total impunity.
It’s disgusting and even more, its treason.
And most of the time, they have no reason
Other than rampant compulsions and greed.
So, what better excuse would they need
To betray every concept they claim to believe?
Is that why there’s never going to be a reprieve?

Many of my poems are political
And I know it.
Some things make me analytical
And I show it.

It works because we reward tinhorn crooks
And let them alter all our history books
To either pretend they never existed
Or to act like they ever have resisted
Any momentum to remove the rights
Of those who were not born white
Or rich, or straight, or Republican
Then, the next Congress starts again.
I’ll stop being a ***** about all this
When they stop offering their *** for me to kiss.

Many of my poems are snarky
And I know it.
Some things make me ******
And I show it.
Q Apr 2014
Burn her at the stake
She speaks up for herself
Throw her off a cliff
She'll fall through the ground, to hell

Burn her, she's too outspoken
She questions society
Burn this ****** witch
Lest others follow her lead.

Burn her, burn her, burn her!
From blood, to bone, to ash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Rebellious piece of trash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Not even her teeth will remain
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Until normalcy is regained

Burn her at the stake
Because she won't submit
Burn her at the stake
Until she lives how we like it

Burn her at the stake
Shun her until her day to die
Burn her at the stake
We want to hear her fry

Burn her, burn her, burn her!
From blood, to bone, to ash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Rebellious piece of trash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Not even her teeth will remain
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Until normalcy is regained

And should any choose to walk her way
Well see to it they perish
We live out lives in constant fear
That they'll come to their senses

And should any choose to walk her way
We'll see to it they perish
We live our lives in constant fear
That they'll come to their senses


Burn her, burn her, burn her!
From blood, to bone, to ash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Rebellious piece of trash
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Not even her teeth will remain
Burn her, burn her, burn her!
Until normalcy is regained
So I'm imagining this as a loud chant and it looks freaking awesome in my mind.
Olivia Kent Dec 2016
Standing by the soup kitchen,
Wrapped up in freezing cold.
Not very old in numbers,
but feeling rather old.
The townsfolk snub him,
They ignore his missus.
His fingers sparkle blue and red,
No magic lurks within.
His blanket's rather itchy.
the people passing by,
are either numb or ******.
get a job, they shout for sport.
their coffee cup, their only support.
It beggars belief that the poor souls get grief.
There for the grace of God go I.
(c) Livvi
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
Artic killer Dec 2014
Five twenty Texas.
In the morn
Fore the busses test their horns.
As a train rattles next to 377
Before I hit 7-11
Where I bet a dollar for a million
Sometimes two on a billion.
Never won once
****** little *****
I'll win tomorrow.
Cause I'll be up drunk for
Five twenty Texas
I should probably get some sleeping meds. Thanks to all my readers of I am ****!!!! Thank you !!! ^^
sycokitten Feb 2014
When did I start looking at life, as vitamins and calories
I remember back before it was just,  hours and salaries
Now I Zombie about, burned up, and burned out
Stress makes me itchy, ******,  I wanna shout
It's all chores and bills, obligations, feed the cat
Run down, Run over, clean this,  do that
Time warps, bends, now its tomorrow
Better sleep soon, or work will be sorrow
Melatonin and liquor
Make it happen quicker
**** down, pass out, cycle through
Not sure anymore, what else to do
Marshal Gebbie Jan 2011
She arrives in high stilletto’s
And a miniskirt so taught
That the boys are all distracted
And our job becomes a rort,
And the office girls get ******
And production spirals down
So then our new Middle Manager
Rolls up her sleeves and goes to town....

She sticks her oar in frequently
And stands with jutted hip,
She’s territorial dynamite
And serves us gloating lip.
She often curries favour
With Department Heads and such
And makes a fuss at our expense
Which irritates so much!

She has a way to circumvent
The types she will not face,
In using her authority
To snidely put them in their place.
Her manner is too sharp
And too dismissive for my taste
And the condescending smile
Has me grinding teeth to paste.

And the way she stands and taps her toe
And glares beneath her brows
Has the office juniors panicking
And avoiding, as allows.
There’s an issue over paper
And the telephone account
And the petty cash, though balanced,
Is a questionable amount.

Historically our working week
Has employed a give and take
With an easy flexibility
That allows us all a break,
But the new Middle Manager
Has reversed the mode of work
So that everyone competes
And the roster’s gone beserk!

Her manner’s often strident
With a whiplash to her voice
And the snarl of her vindictiveness
Leaves us all with little choice
But to bend our backs to labour,
Work our fingers to the bone
And suffer her till knock off
Then, thank God, we’re fleeing home!

There’s a memo in the “In box”
Rumour has it, from on high,
That due to overdue restructuring,
That some redundancies are nigh.
And though there’s great reluctance
And some measure of regret...
It seems our new Middle Manager
Has got her notice...Sorry Pet!


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
15 January 2011
PEARL SMOKE Dec 2014
I Introduced Myself To ****
Searched On The Internet
Most Dangerous Drug
I Was Curious
None Around Me Had Ever Mentioned or Talked About it
At 14
I Read Its Affects & Effects
The Consequences
Of **** Use Didn't Scare me
The Sensation of How it Makes You Feel is What bought me.
There i Go
That Same Day, That Night.
Hit Up My Dealer
Asked if He Had Any Connections
Turned out, He Sold That Too
iWanted To Try This
A One Time Thing, Just to see
Got it That Night
Crushed it Till i Thought Could Turn To Powder, Never Did.
Rolled Up A Dollar
Snorted A 3/4 Inch Line
Of Shiny Crystals
Then instantly my Nose Was on fire
Felt Like it Cut Up Inside my nose
Dissolving my sinuses
The pain lasted Around 40 Seconds
My Eyes Got Teary and Redish
Then A Few Minutes Later
A Nasty Taste Dripped in the Back Of My Throat
So Bitter and horrible
But
The Feel iT Gave Me Was
incredibly Wonderful
Did not expect this much Amazing sensation.
I loved it, Ice Seduced Me
The Drug Had Me Up loving Life For 24 Hrs
Once The high was gone
I Noticed i felt much better on it
So i Wanted it again
The Feeling Was As if You Won The Lottery, Had Every Materialistic
Thing you Ever wanted
As if All Your Dreams all Came True
Accomplishing
More Than 100 Thing's
Felt So Good about myself
Motivated, Highself Esteemed
I Liked How iT Functioned
iUsed
Then iT Quickly Turned
To Abuse
I Wanted To Feel That Loving Euphoria Affect Everyday
I loved it.
Id Started Buying more of it
Without Keeping Count of How Much id Spend.
Id Buy Bigger Quantities
The Amount iBegan With No Longer Hit Me, iNeeded More
I Had Then Built A Tolerance iHad No Recognition of.
I Noticed
My Allowence Money Was No Longer Enough To Get Me High
I Lost Control, **** Took A hold.
iBelieved iWas Doing it Out of me.
When in Reality
The Substance is whats Telling Me What To Do & how to Move
Developed The Addictive Mentality
Asking My Body For More
& More.
Scheming Of Ways To Provide Myself to get high.
It Was Destroying My Life
I Was To High To Even Realize The Negative Affects it was creating.
It Pushed People Away
I Was All About My Dope
Didnt Care if i lost Friends
Just Wanted To Smoke.
It Complicated & Made My Life miserable.
Crystal Had Me So Distracted i Had No iDea Or Intrest About What Was Going On Around me.
Family Arguments Appeared
iWould Get Rowdy Or Act ****** When id Be Coming Down
And Just Talk nonsense
Even if Nobody Was Doing Anything to me
Id Just Keep Disrespecting.
I Slowly Started To Disappear
And Was Becoming A Whole New Person.
With A Different View, Perspective
Unknown motives
Unpredictable Actions
I Lost My Self Completely
Mentally & Emotionally
I Smoked My Self Gone
People Then Started Becoming Concerned, Saying i had a problem.
I Then No Longer New
Who i Really Was.
Not Like it Mattered To Me Anyways
All i Cared About Was My Dope
And Getting High.
I Was Living in My Own Unrealistic World.
What Began To Look Real To Me.
Lack Of sleep
Made Me Start Tripping, Hearing Voices And Seeing ****.
I Would Go Weeks Without Sleep And food .
I Experienced So Many Bad Trips
Methamphetamine Had Me In A Bumpy Road, Lead Me To places i didnt know existed
And introduced me to tweakers who became my homie
iWasnt Concerned About My Looks Rather More into finding more
Dope Hooks
My Image Was Fading
I Became Very Thin, My Cheecks ****** in
Skin Tone Was Pale
Easily bruised
Collar bone out, My pupils Would Stand Out Especially With The Dark Bags under My Eyes.
i thought i looked good.
The Drug blocked the view of how i slowly began to look.
I Didnt Mind, Didn't Care .
I No longer Stoped to think About
My Actions or consequences
i Started to rebel more
I Didnt Fear Or Was Scared of nothing.
Eventually i Got To The point were i Would use and just feel nothing.
I Had No More Emotions
I Couldn't Smile or cry
I Felt No Remorse No Guilt
No Present Conscious
All Of This Behavior Led Me To Stealing And Doing Things that Went against My Own Will.
The Drugs
Messed With My Head
Gave Me insane Thoughts
Made Me Think Evil
Into A Complete Monster.
Its Really Krazie How these Tiny Shards Can Convernt
You into Something So Lifeless And Horrible.
I Went From Being A Curious Regular girl
To Just Wanting to Sit in My Room Isolated Everyday and just get high Hitting the Glass Pipe.
I dedicated all my time to this
I was sprung and in love
I depended on it for everything
I Went A Long Road
Went Through So Much
4 years of this
Story goes on..
Ember Evanescent Dec 2014
I am currently in one of those moods where everyone who is happy and in love, or has any kind of adorable love-life I really would like to light on fire.

Dear beautiful couples, please get your sickeningly cute relationship out of my sight before I *****! Can't you see I'm busy being bitter and lonely and spiteful?!
Sincerely,
The girl in the corner with the chocolate and the ice cream crying bitterly and insanely yelling crazy (slightly terrifying) things at random happy couples passing by.

I am so jealous of some girls it is actually pathetic and I know that jealousy makes me a pretty bad and petty person, but I think it would actually make me a worse person if I weren't honest and denied being jealous of them. I think that jealousy is just a different kind of pain that you are not allowed to feel because society stifles it, and that is not fair. Anyone else agree with this? Idk, maybe I'm the only one. I just think that as long as you are not "getting revenge" or "acting on your jealousy" or whatever it is perfectly normal to feel jealous and it should not be seen as agony, not a negative feeling that makes you a bad person if you feel it.

There is this guy and even though I don't really like him anymore, he and I are still chatting a little and I see his ****** exgirlfriend every fcking day and I hate her. Anyway, I just feel like I can never be like her and I feel this sense of competition between us everytime I see her because the guy I was talking about dropped me for her when he thought he had a chance to get back together with her and I hate being the "Plan B" and I hate him and I hate her and I hate feeling this much hatred and I hate myself for not being as badass as her, as pretty as her, as cool as her, having an original taste in music that is more similar to his as her, I hate myself for caring this much, I hate myself for being so much less interesting than her, and I just really feel worthless and like I am nothing compared to her. Also she is popular. I apologize if this offends anyone but since I had bad experiences with the popular crowd a while back (a lot of stuff I guess some people might call bullying but I don't want to sound like I'm victimizing myself), I just loathe the entire "culture" and society of "popular" people everywhere. I recognize that is an extremely biased, discriminatory, offensive, narrow-minded and pathetic, generalizing point of view, I just have really scarring experiences with them and I don't even care anymore. Anyway, she is extremely well liked by everyone and she is dismissive of poetry and the art of writing which offends me and she is just really... physically beautiful. Do you have any idea what I would give to be pretty like that? I can't compete. I may as well give up. Sorry for the rant this was a lot longer than I actually realized while writing it, I just needed to get this out I'm sorry.

It is kind of getting worse and I am starting to wonder if maybe I should get tested for dysmorphia. Just to ease my mind about the matter... but I'm scared to find out. If it is a no, then I'm glad I don't have a mental disorder but that means I really am a hideous beast and I really need to get some kind of operation or something to fix my ugly face, then if it is a yes, I have a mental disorder and I really don't want to deal with a disease of the mind because it hurts a lot to hate yourself this much.

I have too much work to do and too little time I'm panicking there is no way I am going to be done.

I have no social life.

I want chocolate.

I need to stop trying to resolve things with chocolate.

I'm in one of those moods where I am sad. I don't know why, I just am. How is that even possible?

I am not good at dealing with loneliness.

There must be a way to feel like you are enough for yourself. I haven't found it yet.
Not to offend anyone with the whole happy-relationship-burning-couples-threats I was kidding I am happy for you, I am also just insanely jealous, that's all. Don't take it personally. :) <3
Nico Reznick Mar 2016
Some days you surface into,
and there's no distracting yourself from
that irrefutable inevitability that
- ultimately -
entropy will win.
No quantity of
authentic artisan coffee or online memes
or juicing can
pull you out of the
black hole gravity
of that one truth.
The evidence is everywhere:
the spiteful confusion of electrical cables
your sleep-stupid fingers
fumble and fail to untangle;
the mold on the bread you
swore would keep a few more days;
the putrid, burst-open remains of
a pink armchair, left to rot in a
stranger's front garden;
the scavenging army of crows that loiters,
waiting for you to die and, in the
meantime, walks ****** little footprints
around your eyes;
the oxidation of
so many dreams.

It's inescapable.
Might as well root for the winner.
Embrace the decay.
Take photographs of
rust, smashed glass, peeling paint, dead flowers.
Learn to love faded colours and the feel
of broken things.
Catalogue your most
interesting scars and mutilations.
And, while you can,
write poetry.
Victoria K Apr 2013
Alone and sad.
Stupid and happy.
Lazy.
Sleepy.
Hungry, sometimes.
Probably fat.
I love to smile,
but sometimes it looks weird.
Quiet.
Weird and awkward.
Cannot keep a conversation.
Flirting is a bad time.
Honest.
****** and selfish.
Insecure.
In my head.
Lonely.
Redshift Jun 2013
tonight i
lost it a little
and it's not even night
it's morning
just to be clear

start over...

this MORNING
i
lost it a little
and i don't know
how to be better

i talked at a white shining light
on my computer
i vented
at a webcam
for thirty minutes
and i looked myself in the face
and tried to tell me it'd be alright
but the words choked me
and i couldn't
get them out

and im not trying to be an overdramatic
*******
a whiner
or a ****** kid
i just have abandonment issues
and cutting
and wantingtodietoomuch
issues
and i feel like everyone is biding their time
waiting
to leave me
and i feel like
i can't sew up the child-sized holes
in my dad's heart

and it's ******* father's day
and i can't even do that
i can't ******* replace
the nine other kids
that should be here
i can't make up for that
i am just
one person
one daughter
and i cannot make my daddy
better
and i
hate
it

happy
*******
father's day
i can't make anything better. i can't even make me better. but i have to stick this **** out so my family isn't destroyed again.
Noah Mar 2013
Words,
*******,
I still don't know how to use them,
How to use words to do my bidding,
Or something like that, you know, whatever,
So that I can tell everyone,
Or anyone,
Or no one, I guess,
At least so I can tell myself, remind myself
That I know who I am.
Or at least what I am.
To some extent.
Sometimes.
Maybe.
****.

Sometimes I feel like I'm in hell.
I'm not.
But I'm not in heaven either,
Whatever that is anyway.
I've been stuck in purgatory for eras,
Driving on and on but going nowhere
While the radio plays music I almost almost enjoy,
Cue twenty more by Styx!
******* get me out of here,
I keep stretching and stretching and feeling the burn,
But it never gets better.
But it never gets worse.
Most of the time.

Your ring tone was the only one that was different,
And every time it rang I jumped, and my stomach twisted, and my heart pounded
All at once, and my fingers twitched,
Stretching to the phone as I rolled my eyes,
Pretending like I didn't care, like dude, whatever, bug off.
I cared. Obviously. Or I mean, maybe it was obvious. I don't know.
I picked out the song for your ring tone because I liked it,
And I liked you, so it fit, that's all.
But now when the tune plays, over and over,
Recognized, familiar,
Formidable,
I feel sick.
**** you.

There's a boy I know who's smart,
Really smart, as smart as some people believe I am,
Which is apparently pretty ******* scholarly sometimes.
He's smart in the softest and most modest of ways,
With a wide, goofy, middle-of-nowhere smile.
It would make anyone else look stupid.
It makes him look like the biggest **** genius I've ever seen.
**** Einstein, this dude trumps all.
And we talk, small talk, loud laughs,
Exchanging witty puns and pop culture references.
Well, he does most of the exchanging.
I just smile and nod and agree,
And maybe I've never felt more stupid in my life.

My friends and I all went to this party last night.
We did some crazy ****, man, you should have been there.
Yeah? That's nice. Sounds really ******* cool. Thanks for the invite.
I do this to myself, though.
No car, no license, no social skills.
All I've got for company is a television and a basket of ***** clothes.
What a party, I'm telling you.
Well, sorry I couldn't make it, I guess.
All this technology and still I don't communicate.
Or when I do, it's the wrong time, wrong person, wrong thing to say.
So instead, I sink into my bed,
Laptop slowly burning a hole through the sheets,
Soon the heat will reach my thighs, but who needs legs anyway?
Sometimes the phone rings and it's not you, halleloo.
Sometimes it's my own hero with an offering,
A movie, a party, just a chat on the phone, anything, anything,
Anything to save me from drowning in my own, self-constructed pity party.
He's really my best friend. Thank god for him.

This was going to be about my sexuality.
Or lack there of, anyway, hardeeharhar.
Just one of those ******, whiny, common exploratory things,
Or whatever.
So here's something, still not about my nonexistent, and unwanted, thanks, *** life,
But on topic now, I think. Or not, maybe. Whatever.
My life is like solitaire. Everyone's is, I'm sure,
Or at least I hope, so I'm not the only one frustrated as hell with
Living. Or just existing.
Solitaire is dull and simple but keeps me busy enough, distracted enough,
But sometimes, even though I line up all the cards right,
There's some I still can't get to,
And as I get down to the last few cards,
I realize that there's no way I can win,
Because sometimes winning was never an option in the first place.
Sometimes you just find yourself stuck,
Sometimes you just lose.

This was supposed to help me vent,
Help me let out all the same old frustration, you know -
Why can't I just be a normal guy
Who gets a normal boyfriend
And then ***** said normal boyfriend into a mattress and has a **** good time?
Well all that flew out the window a long time ago,
If it was ever in the building in the first place,
And not just sprawled out dead on the toilet seat. *******.
IHUAENYI ROYAL May 2014
The realness i preach should not be discarded
dont frown and scroll down,but this piece should be regarded
regarded because this ain’t no tutorial
because those who get to know this are in memorial

being real isn’t based on the fact that you are a gentleman
no,it is based on the fact that in private you can still be a gentleman
unrealness circulates and is round ike a tyre tube
and there is no tutorial on realness on you tube

unreal things become more attractive to us
we try to be who we see on tv instead of the real us
realness is making your natural hair and droping the wig
realness is walking away from a fight with a punch to swing

so are those eye brows,fingernails and hair real?
or does the chains,gun in your back pocket and tatoo make you real?
realness is when you stick to a friend in times of trouble
realness is when you shelter the man on the streets when the thunder rumbles

so i say to all you ladies;love yourselves even if nobody does
this is why you do not belive when you are told you’re beautiful,after a heart break
realness is when you delete the term ‘excuse’ and the word “because”
realness is when a white kid shares food with a black kid during a lunch break

so you think you are real because you can read a lie”manifesto”to people
win the elections and not do ****,not even see us as equals
realness is when you are friends with the opposite *** and dont complicate it
realness is when you work hard and the critics critisise but you still work at it

so dream big but when you make it dont forget to still be real
we strugle to be who we aren’t instead of being ourselves,what an irony
so dont try to be a model because you’re not,and a model is an imitation of what is real
and realness isnt having money but having money that is real(through straight means)

realness is when christians can live freely in islamic countries
and black men can walk freely in white countries
realness is when you work hard,make it and help your community
realnesss is when you dream of changing the world but starting with your viscinity

you drawing breath and being physicall dosn’t make you real
and saying she wants to be just friends shouldnt change how you feel if you are real
these things i write are aimed to the world to teach
so i say R.I.P because it’s the Realness I Preach

1 week ago
BAD *******


so you say you’re a bad ***** huh
so you prefer to be identified by bad ***** instead of ur real name huh
so you prefer to be valued by money instead of your worth
so you are a bad *****,i ain’t tryna judge you,this ain’t no court

the term “bad *****” can’t end you up as a wife
those instagram pictures wont work,you can’t put a filter on life
you were born original,now you chose to live as a copy
look colourful on the outside but your life is sloppy

the beauty of having beauty is a lot more than being beautiful
the path to life you follow isnt geting any where meaningful
so you say”love *****,i chase paper”*** to you love is just a verb
no cure for your attitude so you take drugs and herbs(****)

anything that has a monetary value is worthless
you used to value more but the tag”bad *****”made you less
you are now defined by pictures of you kissing the air,
exposing you ***** and *** looking for the next prey on facebook or instgram

we follow our dreams but a responsible man wont follow a”bad *****” on twitter
so you can say,you are not any responsible man’s dream
be a bad ***** all your youth and when old a baby sitter?
you raise the stakes for yourself and still cant cross the beam

life is not rosy and even if it is,roses have thorns
those things you do will hunt you,they’ll come with horns
lipsticks,eyelashes,short gowns,expensive wrist watches and purses
money first and then back on the ground,now thats a curse

bad ******* exist amongst us,they are our friends on facebook
"*******"sounds bizzare so she says shez a "bad *****"
the person you are still searches for the person you should be
and i hope youre eyes dont remain shut for you to see

and the younger girs see you and want to be like you
they want to dress all thight and paint their faces like you
no one wants to be like margareth thatcher
they all wanna be nickky minaj

these days there are more bad ******* than wives
and to responsible men it’s like stabs from 100 knives
because a bad ***** will follow men
but a lady will cling to a man

and if you say youre a bad ***** and you need no man
tell that to yourself when you turn 40
a lady isnt defined by how bad or ****** she is but how elegant and classy she is
a bad ***** is pretty but the beauty of a lady is defining

so choose today to be a lady and start the change for our generation!#thepoet
Lisa A Anglin Oct 2010
There was a time my heart wasn’t as cold.
Once I owned a heart of gold.
Till one day I came to see,
Hearts of gold break too easily.
I only have too cheeks to turn,
Both were black and blue before I learned,
A heart can break only so many times,
Before it’s time to draw the line.
Life’s a ***** and it’s time to be
Just as ****** as life treats me.
So I learned to bite as well as growl.
No longer do I throw in the towel.
There is no more tears for these eyes to cry,
...Cause Life’s A ***** And So Am I.
© Copyright 2008 L. A. Anglin
Jill Miller Jan 2012
Roses are Red, Blood is too.
You're my best friend, but I hate you.
Best means nothing.
Friend means less.
Yet without you,
Truth?
I'm a mess.

Said what I said *** I give a ****
which is more than you get from the crowd you hang with.

Ricky and Dustin and tall hot blonde kid,
Misha, and Matt..
**** all of them!

Better yet, don't!
They don't deserve you.
I know you don't believe it,
but its true.

You're incredible, as I've said before.
Start believe that.
Stop being a *****.
Who is this girl?
You could be so much more!

You want to be wanted?
That's what you want for yourself?
What about success, dreams,
and maybe good health.

If I could give everything I have,
I would.
If that meant you were happy
and would smile like you should.

I would die for you.
Why don't you understand that?!
You're the best friend that I've ever had!

Delete my number.
Do you think I meant that?
I felt like such **** that's the response that I had!
And you can forget me and go get a tatt?
While I'm in tears over a fight that we had!

You get drunk and say you hate your life.
Yet continue to do it every night.
and I'm willing to drive there to be there for you
because that's what a ******* best friend would do!

And no matter what, I'll always be here for you.
And if you walk away,
I'll be here, too.

Violets are blue,
and that's how I'm feeling.
If you're at this point,
I guess thanks for reading.

This is my cry,
my reach out to you.
Cuz the way I love you girl,
a text wouldn't do.

Best means nothing,
friend means less.
But sisters are until the ******* end.

I don't care if you hate me or if I hate you.
I don't care if sometimes we have a fight or two.

The fact is, there's nothing that I can do
to even begin to explain to you
how much I want to make amends
try to improve and just stay friends.

You don't have to acknowledge me.
Delete me from your life,
all over some stupid ****** strife.

But I couldn't stay awake for one more night
thinking about it,
pretending everything was alright.

Let me know one way or the other.
Let's not give up on one another.

With everything that we've been through,
I don't want to stop being a we with you.

You're my best friend,
my sister,
my wife.

You're my tree,
my twin,
my kiss at midnight.

You're such an immense part of my life.
Eliminate you at this point?
Yeah right!

So roses are red, and blood is too.
We're at war,
yet I'm on the frontline for you.
Fighting for everything we've been through
and I'm not giving up.
**That's what best friends do.
David Nelson Sep 2013
Heinie Manush Rag

playing the Heinie Manush rag
your piano's out of tune you *******
the rhythm is all wrong
the chorus too long
it's like listening to my grumpy wife nag

dancing is not your thing either
watching you is like inhaling ether
you have two left feet
you can't stay on beat
I'd rather watch leave it to ******

please don't make me hear you sing
you make my ears burn and sting
I don't wanna sound ******
but you're constantly pitchy
maybe you should give monkhood a fling


Gomer LePoet ....
AJ Oct 2013
just decades ago, in far off world
in big white house, sat a little girl.
she lay in the corner of her room without a care
because this little girl had dreams to spare.
she laid on her bed, with her nose in a book
she had thousands of adventures in that little nook.
until one day, an arrow shot her right off of her cloud
she had to learn to grow up, and fit in with the crowd.
she traded her books for lipstick and blush.
she took out her ponytail and got a new brush.
she had to learn to be pretty, it's not about brains.
if you want to be heard, you'd better be vain.
if you don't look perfect, than no one cares about you,
if you're not pretty, then you won't make it through.
so take off your glasses, and drop all of your classes;
men don't care about brains, they care about *****.
you're meant to be a housewife, what else is there to do?
get with the program, why mess with their view?

but the girl wasn't done, she wasn't going without fight
though the world had hit her, she still had some bite.
why can't you both pretty and smart,
still be kind, and speak from the heart?
but the world said "no!"; and it's hard to rebel
when the world is trying to silence all of your yells.
but she kept on marching, she was determined to win
with a smirk on her face, she was ready for it begin.
armed with a dress and a large stack of books
she spread the word that it wasn't all about looks.

the world called her bitter and ****** and mean
apparently "feminist" is the worst thing you can be.
she stood up to them, and challenged their norms.
she told all the girls, they didn't have to conform.
she told them they could be what ever they wanted
but she knew that the girls would still be haunted
by the judgmental world she knew too well
could they make a change? only time would tell

though she tried her hardest to win the battle
there are still times when women are treated like cattle.
and we're still not equal, not in work, not in pay
i just keep praying that it'll get better someday.
but praying won't help, if we don't do our part
we've got to keep fighting, we've got be smart.
we can't let these men keep making the laws
we've got to start a revolution, and be true to the cause.

but still it's so hard, and i'm just so tired
when will women start to be admired?
and i am too young to feel this ******
but women's rights have been put on a waiting list.
there's so many things that i'm fighting to change
but the harder i fight, the more people find me strange.
but why is it strange to want equal rights?
i want to save myself, i don't need a white knight.

there's so much to do, we've got so far to go
and there's so many things that i just don't know.
but listen, little girl, don't you fret
because i promise you, our story isn't over yet.
I am at peace
Grasping gatherin"
Marble extracted pieces

Dust all over deep  ye
shallow crevices  cry
A white dove's  fly
free of sorrow

I'd love to seal a millionth
tears on your lips kiss my farewell

I am the deep Space
I am the Brahman
I am the fine firmament
You are all best
Such is the truth

I am blood flesh body consciousness
Such is the Truth

I am the firmament
Go down on fantasy
Burn your fleshy
Languish fingers
And see where they land

Into the neverland anythin" is
Laying the sea **** as it were
A forest's tapestry ready
Finally
To recall the roll over
The magic Moss
and the razor sharp
entwined stares are infatuated
entirely, submerged in carnal
Pleasures and driftin" as
Smooth as our palms
explore the desired
Softness
Surfaces
Flowerin" as
Transcient
Shapes of heavenly
waves
wavin"
Shape shifti'n
Shinin' within our legendary
Black holes of perception

Rays fall exposed to the
Light
Acoustic fractures resemble
Ray's glimmerin' under
Undulated  brilliancies

Hey you, painter, a wordsmith of a happy fiddle tunes
All over the the land, ripe harry hills, bush berries and burgundy
Grow infinitesimal promises

Step aside for a while, apparitions of your wildest abstractions
Mean nothin" Come and take my breath away by the hand
And swim me to Swimmers' simmerin'

Endless Time is a ****** illusion
A Reckless hope drivin"
Without a licence

Ricochet
Toughts
Trickle
Riot rascals
And ******* concortions
Emanate radiant embarassed
Spirallin" shy blushes
To hide and die of this word: Anguish

I'd swallow the swell day
I'd let you know your golden and crimson
Violet
Deep Thoughts of Goodness

Precious precious Indigo
Ageless darlin'

Step a bit further
And see it (for) yourself
Eruptions
Coolin" within
The open space spiced
Dee light danger liasons

Ferocious I'm borne
Ferocious I give off
The light

I dye
I diamond you
I die dao the way up to you into the uncountable fervored Future

I burn I burn

I am the Sun
And the stars and the galaxies
I am The earth
I am the forest the mountains
I am the lake
Call me a fake
And mockin" will explode
Around your sweet grinin" face

Do not agree that we only read
Some make bread with sour cream
Some make cookies with a bit of green
Some throw flat stones upon the mild surfaces seen

Mirrorin" their minor inspirations tryin" to put others down
Hey, here is your crown! Bittersweet! Clown!

Clovers
Piment
Flowers
Horns
Thorns
Ageless
Aureolas
Borne

Scented oils linger in a sanguine air
Upon your tangible surrender
I fall and kiss your kiss

Rivers run wild flowering seeds
Rivers carry them to Toward n" a while deeds
Within cosmic symphonies by Oceanic all blueness

Blatant and Blissful
Ponds dormir

This all comes and goes
like ripples    
Upon the jade pond
This comes and voes like a vessel
Transports all beings

All beings engage in their essence
Liberated


While the noble sage
Disillussions own Self:

Subtle and ethereal body

This I am
This I am not










The wise
The names
The forms
The invisible
The intangible
They do Keep on goin'
Manure for the soul body mind.
Manure for the truthful seekers.
Major influence by Deepak Chopra.
Minor influence by the truth which lies in each and every one of us.
Hope you enjoyed the conducted narrative. Take for granted only what you percieve to be (your) Truth. This is poetry! This does and doesn"t speak of love. Tho" it aims to divine blissful revelations.
Kody Jun 2013
I'm just done with all this ****. FUKING DONE. All I ever do is look out for her and her family and all I get from her own mother is disrespect and humility and talking behind my back to the girl of my dreams??? ***??? Why the **** would I stay and take this ****?? Dad.. If u can hear me *** is going on. This is ridiculous and I can't take it. Her mother is tearing my heart outta my chest. I know I said to not let parents get in the way but ****. This is ******* and I can't believe I'm still here yet trying to fix everything when idk if its going to work. Why would I do what I do and treat everyone so good? For this to happen to someone like me? Like this could happen to my dad 3 months ago with his. Passing... Why??? This worlds a ****** up place. Aeriel doesn't know it and all I do is try to show her what I've been through and tell her yet nothing really clicks until its too late. Apparently im a liar when Shes talking to my ***** ex that SHE SAW WAS LIEING to me just 2 ******* DAYS AGO. Doesnt believe her true love???Everything's too late. My dads passing... My uncle being how he has to my girlfriend, my girlfriend Aeriel being how she is, and her ******* witch mother. Can't stand her. Treat her daughter like gold and I get dumpstered on by her knowing I can't retaliate or it's over between her daughter and I. That ******* old ****** witch. Wouldn't tell my girlfriend, my life, that her moms as bad as she is but not even I would try to say some of the things I'm thinking. I'm done. The only little piece of me staying... Is my true love for this girl...
C S Cizek Nov 2014
I suckled my mother's Bluetooth breast
while my father built me a bassinet
of series circuits with high, motherboard
bars.
I've got that artificial baby glow.
But Mom put my ****** on Facebook
at four weeks and I still haven't re-friended
(forgiven) her. My upgrade's in nine months,
but I want my downgrade now
'cause all I get are social invite excuses
from Facebook fuckfaces. We pack
our lives into little boxes that we're
not even allowed to open.
We drink to technology, keep our lazy
eyes on our news feeds, and recycle
ideas like their owners would even
want to see what we've done to them.
We misquote Confucius and credit ourselves
with mangled Robert Frost stanzas.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I think
it's awesome that Pepsi used to be blue."

Reblog, revine,
retweet, FaceTime.
Folding chair fold-out on someone's lawn.
White-out Yeats, Keats, Byron, and Auden,
and write John ******* or Tom Whatever.
We're caught in the chicken wire of an LCD
fruit basket so neat, orderly, and brushed
aluminum. How can people write in Starbucks?
S
   B  
       U  
            X
B  
     S
The cooler's too ******, music's too shy,
and the sugar, no, not just the sugar.
THE PEOPLE are too artificial.
The carpet-suit inlay I'm standing
on has pencil lead, sock lint,
and receipt shred lapel pins.
Even corporations play dress-up.

But what happens when Y2K kicks
in tomorrow?
Lives will be lost even before
the missiles **** us.
And the planes that drop
from the sky won't even come close
to when the bough breaks your little
girl's heart, baby, because your phone
can't raise her anymore, so you have to.

And based on your search history,
tweets, and recorded dreams,
she's better off in the warm
embrace of a hard drive.
The poem for my Color & Design final.
Miri Kane Oct 2010
I am a woman.
Does that make you want to hurt me?
Do you look at me as weak, vulnerable, ******, emotional, insignificant, manipulating...a pleasure dummy?
Am I excluded from conversations, education, emotional relations, fair evaluation... I am a woman, here is my exclamation.
I eat. I ****. I read. I sit. I learn. I grow. I don’t like to be called a **.
I have thoughts. I can take a joke. I care for others. I’m not just something to poke.
I work for my money, 77 cents to your dollar.
I have control and my intended purpose is not for ironing collars.
The notion of the nagging woman bothers me most.
There is much beauty to us, if you look close.
Not on the surface or underneath our clothes.
Listen when we talk and you will see we are not foes.
Written for a class that asked "When were you first aware of your gender?" This is how I answered.
As strong as the mystic Oak
as bountiful as the Chestnuts burden
liken to palm tree on a lonely island
kind as a spring apple blossom

Sometimes weeping liken to a Willow
bending in waters hiding tears
singing like a London Plain
in the smoggy city streets

****** as a Beach Tree
glorious as mountain Pine
oh how wondrous
in avenues they do bind

See the Elms worrying
as beetles invade their bark
undermining their existence
to their extinction

Yet the amorous smell of Cherry blossoms
does late at night fill the midnight air
and all comes to winters realms
Christmas presents are laid under it's frame
of the greatest of Pines

As the Sycamore sings
bare and wanting of summers light
holding strong at winters bite
this is why I love trees


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Because you needed a ***** in the House.
A sweet *****,
An awful *****,
A lousy *****,
A dreadful *****,
A lonely one,
A hopeful one,
A very very brave and powerful:
Real Hateful one.
A scarry *****,
A mighty *****,
A tired one...
A ****** filthy 'son of a gun' one!

The poor ***** that got broken,
AWW!
The sad ***** and pitiful,
The pretty *****,
Oh my Word! Oh, my Lord!

The charming and the jumping,
The petty...
The wonderful and working.

The stupid ***** you can't live with,
The one you can't live without.
"Better dead than that bad"

The natural *****,
The great *****,
"You little *****!"
The unnaturally something *****.

"My, my! The ***** that was
Is still mine!"

The healthy *****,
The stealthy *****,
The common *****,
The extraordinary *****...

A proud piece of rotting ****.
Your people, chosen or not disrespect.

The rotting *****,
Romantic *****,
The famished *****
And thirsty, eyes wide open,
Thinking *****, the doer *****,
The coldest *****,
You trending *****!

You want them
All                                 !
You want them

The wealthy *****,
The famous one,
The popular, loved n' hated one
The lofty one,
Superior one.
The Princess *****: you'll have to work for her and her lawn.

The never tired *****,
The always hard to take,
The better *****,
The one to money-make
Come true
The never wrong but needed *****,
Adored, much worshipped
Set free, caught in a web,
A bottle of champagne,
A cup o' tea,
A thought for thoughtful a *****
Who used to be too thoughtful,
Too loud,
Too something this and that,
To wrong.

Oh, faithful *****
Caught by all ******* love
For Gold and money and Fame you fall,
You have to.

Oh, sick of it,
Oh, knowing-it-all!
Creative *****, what have you done.
Inventive *****, illustruous *****?

My teaching a good lesson *****,
Thank you for helping me around.

Because you needed an idiotic *****!
A parting one,
Departing one,
An angry gal, good, sorrowed one.
Luckily a ****** one,
A greedy, thirsty for clean waters one,
A helplessly dreaming *****,
A needy one, needing a good witch,
The learning for better
In sickness and health,
Cleaning the wound, help mending a heart hurt
- gal!
A helpful one,
Much funny one,
A stronger one,
A stubborn one,
One to catch worms
Like every other one.

A witchy ****** annoying bitchey
Because without *******, what would be?
Oh what this world could be?
If having a good passion means to be a ***** in your eyes, so be it, I will be the *****, I will be the star, the sun in your eyes, all your waste of time preventing it.
talkin hella ****,
****** lil fit
******* think there slik,.
makin me look weak?. Makin me feal sick,
nasty ****** heart ,
ugly from the start,.
   who are you to say I am,?
I am real,
and true and kind,
I've bin sober lost   my mind,
those mean words berome my mind,
I just want to hit you *****,!
you act fly with dome so sick....
your'e cruel you're rude you hurt,
Just Dirt!!.
      when left school I have a shelter give me break,
For goodness sake, :(

— The End —