"brashest" poems
(more lyrics than poetry, but whatever)
It scares me so much, the words that she writes,
The pills that she takes, to go to sleep every night,
The things that she says, how she argues and fights,
I just want everything to end up alright,
I’m not gonna say I can’t deal, I try and I will,
I’d fight and i’d **** and if the beans are being spilled,
I love her so much, and my love’s the brashest, the boldest,
I hope how much I care is never going unnoticed,
Let it be noted, my feelings are the truest I could ever express,
And I’m thankful everyday she choose me over the rest,
But I just feel useless, unhelpful and stupid,
I know how her pain feels, I swear i’ve been through it,
If I could erase it, I promise I’d do it,
If I could take it, I’d move it, i’d break it,
So next time she smiles, she wont have to fake it
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 7:56 PM UTC
What’s the harm in joining with a crowd of people
United around a rainbow and a passion for equality?
If it’s true that
God Hates ****
Then we’re in real trouble
Under the colours of His great judgment on the party of depravity
Entitling the parade as
Pride
Which goes before destruction
If it’s true that
God is Love
Then let’s not be offended
There is no need for
Straight Pride Day
Unless I missed the memo
Threatening the death penalty for love and marriage
Is it not the case that the driver for Gay Pride
Is that some are treated differently, judged by their inside
When the rest of humanity can step up and take Pride
In their efforts and achievements, and not what they confide
In their most trusted friends so as to dodge that stereotype?
So why has the parade become the world’s greatest collection
Of the loudest, brashest versions of the most extreme ideas
When almost every gay person I know is almost disappointingly…
Normal?
My Gay-Proudest moment was when I gave a job
To an LGBT chairman, who stood out from the crowd
Not because of his leaning and not because of pity
But for being the best fit and better-skilled than the rest
The Day on which we can be
Gayest and Proudest
Will be the day when there’s no need
For Gay Pride Day
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 5:09 AM UTC
In the deathlands of night,
where you can't hide from what has gone,
the eyes of recollection are ripped open.
And once the eyelids of your spirit have been shredded,
all you can do is stare, stare, stare.
Back across the years
into the puddle of possible pasts,
searching for just the right reflection.
The perfection you put your finger on
and felt pulsing beneath your passion.
The fragment of time, folded up,
and stored away, like a ward
a barrier against forgetfulness.
This is all that memory demands.
A little place to call home,
where doubt and hope don't dwell alone,
a vault for each shout, each tear, and each moan.
A freezer to store all the flesh, and burnt bones,
of a thousand sunlit paradises you saw
destroyed before your eyes.
A room with a voice
that can pierce the brashest din
of just-forget-me's,
and we-never-should-have-been's.
A land of straight razors, and special souvenirs
we keep safely nestled between our fragile ears
a monument of all we are
a record of our years.
An echo that will never disappear.
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 3:24 AM UTC